Cold breeze rolls through the camps 

The stench of death in stagnant air 
A smell that never washes out 
As soldiers come to liberate 
 
6 years enslaved means a lifetime of rage 
That won’t dissipate after 3 generations 
The line’s not direct but that doesn’t protect 
My heart from the feeling of constantly breaking
From jealousy please don’t mistake it for hatred 
But unlike yours my family never saw liberation 
The day came too late to spare from unmarked graves 
 
Being worked to the death means eternity questioning 
For only a cruel god would teach such a lesson
They prayed just as hard and they fought just as hard 
Yet yours found their freedom while mine were forgotten 
 

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