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Ghosts of Genocide This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

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I’ve begun to depart,
From the soul that I brought,
To this blazing and haunted prison,
The incarcerated ghosts have risen.
Gas rose from the floor,
I watched it begin to soar
Where our skin unsheathed,
Where our bones, they turned ash,
As we melted away,
Or stuck with a lash
Gas rose from the floor,
I watched it begin to soar
I remember watching,
Feeling anxious and dire
To go to the shower,
A waterfall of fire
Gas rose from the floor,
I watched it begin to soar
Engulfed by flames
Caressed by a bleak death,
Crumbling to nothing,
With smoke my last breath.
Gas rose from the floor,
I watched it begin to soar
Heavier than air,
Sipping life from the fair
Like a spirit,
From its grave,
Gas rose from the floor




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