The heat strikes my face
scornful, violent
the flame roars, screams
falls silent
dust settles,
like a blanket of snow
curtains over their mistakes
burn it all, they'll never know
the pain, our war creates
stood here in grey attire
at the gates of hell
the stench clings to my skin
the tears of those who fell
Jacob Andrew Jarman
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/auschwitz-1942/
