Under the floorboards

"Shhh! Don't cry, don't make a sound," Imma says while in the ground.

Isolation has us weary, in this dugout, dark and eerie.

Love not hate will set us free, even though it's hard to see.

Empty stomach twists and groans, my feeble back can't take these stones.

Nazi boots kick down the door, casting shadows on the floor.

Coursing fire fills up the room, it's getting hot inside this tomb.

Eclipsed by violence, I no longer wish to live in.....