In Dachau’s fields, where shadows fall,
A place of pain, where hearts still call.
The first dark camp, where evil grew,
Where hope was lost, and dreams were few.
Jews and others, names unknown,
Torn from love, from house, from home.
In narrow rooms, with cold, hard beds,
They faced cruel nights, with heavy dreads.
“Work will free you,” the gate did lie,
A wicked trick beneath the sky.
No freedom came, just whips and cries,
And silent prayers that touched the skies.
The rooms were small, the food so thin,
The cold crept deep beneath the skin.
Toilets open, shame so deep,
In barracks dark, where none could sleep.
Starving bodies, thin and weak,
No food to fill, no voice to speak.
Doctors cut with hearts of stone,
Experiments that chilled the bone.
Gas and guns took lives away,
In Dachau’s dark, where death held sway.
Some were shot in ruthless line,
Some were gassed, no warning sign.
But hope, though small, would sometimes bloom,
In whispered songs, in shared gloom.
Through pain and loss, their spirits fought,
For love and life, though all seemed naught.
Then one day the gates swung wide,
The world looked in, and many cried.
Freedom came, one April day,
When soldiers broke the chains away.
The camp was done, its horrors ceased,
But scars remain, their pain not eased.
The leaders cruel, who built this hate,
Met hopeless ends, a fitting fate.
Some faced the law, some fled in fear,
But none escaped the truth so clear.
Justice stood, though late it came,
To speak for those lost without name.
Now Dachau stands, a place to see,
To learn of those who longed to be free.
Their tears still whisper in the air,
“Remember us, and show you care.”
For millions gone, we bow our head,
For Jews and all who suffered dead.
Let Dachau’s tale forever stay,
To guide our hearts to peace today.
