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Stained

Sin stains the earth where they stand, yet dressed in all white their purity is evident.
Their innocence and hope is encased in a shell of fear, one that is near impossible to crack. So young, so worried, so scared, if only they could have been spared.

Stand and salute, salute them for you’re live, stand tall and strait with your arm like a signal to him of your obedience. They surround you like the very blood and ash filled air you breathe. How long must this horrible motion plague your little pure form?

Like little angels in a sea of hell and fire they stand. In pure white gowns with little flower crowns they must be our salvation. Yet the fear and confusion on their faces betray them, showing they are just another victim of Hitler’s Nazi machine.

I wonder what thought travel through the girls’ minds. Is there hope or defeat? Is there consciousness or corruption? If only I could understand them, hear their thought and words in this time of great importance.

Death or life, which is better for them now? Which would they prefer? Poor little girls covered in purity and sin; let the angels take you away from your suffering days. Let them take you to the heavens and erase the memories that plague your nightmares.

Beneath them are little footprint in the snow and sludge where their feet stay bound. Their feet leave stains upon the ground, leaving footprint of sorrow and despair, and from this point on the little girls shall always walk upon a stained earth.



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