From a fiery wrath comes a plague of genocide,
Forced upon a race, ever so peaceful.
Erupting its power upon its own,
Spewing hatred, like the ash remains of Pompeii.

Storming through big cities,
With malignant, treacherous prowess,
It swept through, one by one,
Taking all or none, violence without empathy.

Thin, yet heavy, like the touch of death,
Was the air of a hopeless paradox.
Unknowingly being led to their deaths,
The time came, it was upon them.

Breath by breath they freed their souls of all plight,
Purifying themselves, slowly steadily asleep they lay to rest,
In the scalding, smoldering, suffocating flames,
Because of a feigned ignorance for a historical mishap.