Zyklon B
The darkness hangs so heavy it might make
A sound if struck. The darkness is like black
So weighty nightmares might begin to shake
If they encountered it. Hearts might attack
It. Hearts are only hearts, though. They are made
Of blood and lover’s flesh. These can’t suffice
To move against the deepest things. When preyed
Upon by forces wielding lightless gneiss,
The heart finds nature that opposes deep,
Bass nature is condemned. A Nazi camp
For murder casts all decency to steep
Death. Heart is only heart beneath the stamp
Of jackboots from vast nature’s darkest doom.
Jews clean out corpses from that prussic room.