Darkness was a fist that would not unfurl

1942: when they walked through the door

Walls like bars holding them from the world

They cried please let us out but the darkness holds

With fingernails that dig into flesh as Jewish blood spills

Two years crawled through the annex

All they want is to see the sun

A crack in the black to keep them on the run

But light means death

So they let darkness fill them with every breath

Their hope is a match

Eight of them burn a candle

They latch their bodies over it to keep it lit

They feel safety is at their midst

They knew it would end

But they all hoped that things wouldn’t descend 

1944: they heard boots in the roads

They were dying in shadows

Grasping stale tasting air with their lungs

Waiting

Hoping

But it was not enough

The candle blew out

They felt unknown arms from unknown faces

Twistings their skin to put them in their places

Pulling bodies into the sun

They are no longer people, just a mound

Because they are Jews

Because they are found

Pulled apart and forced to forget

Made as if they had never met

The smell of desperation and starvation

Lingers in the air

All their hope is caught in a snare

In the camps they all died

All but one 

He is forced to a life not on earth

But a life made in his mind

A life of memories he will never discard

Because Anne and the others will always be remembered