As I stand at the front of the stone door,






















I think of her my love that has been stripped away and cannot be replaced,
My heart it cannot bear without her in place,
As tears of sadness runs down my face,
A life without her is a life not meaningful to take place,
Without My love.

The place they call, camp of work is a place of death,
The place of the lesser people as they call,
The place of where men, woman, and children fall,
A place where no one should be but I am here without the person I call,
My love.

Here I work till my bones are aching,
We are called by numbers not by name but by one, two, three, four,
Every day as I lay to rest I am always sore,
The days drag on as it was a bore,
I wish not to die and she my love strengthens my core.

I survived the days of weeping on the ground,
Just glad that it was the end of the war,
The tears of the joy on did they pour,
Now I live in Detroit and run a store,
I was called into a church and I know not what for.

My love, my love in the church I found something similar to my loves,
Oh yes, I know it is hers,
The initial RLZ yes, yes this was of her,
I now know that she has survived as well and now I will go to her.

I ran and ran as fast as I could,
To find her, her the one my love,
I knock on the door of the apartment number 22,
She opens the door and touches my face,
My love,
It has been the longest time I have not been able to see her,
Now here she is and I am never going to leave her side,
MY LOVE