Arbeit mach frei
Working
(to death)
Will set
you(r soul)
Free
Empty yourself
Until you resemble
A ring without a finger
Until your atoms separate
Like smoke in the wind
Lose yourself,
As the world has lost you,
In a mass of loose-skinned,
Skeletal spectres.
Lose yourself
As you acquiesce
To being a felt star,
A number,
A scapegoat.
Live on
As a smudge
Of charcoal -
The only product
Of this factory.
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