The Silence of Auschwitz 🌹

[L'absent]

Imagine the cold, the kind that seeps into your bones and steals your breath—not just the winter chill, but the cold of despair. Imagine the silence: not the peaceful kind, but the kind that holds the echoes of thousands of voices cut short, absorbed by the earth. Every step there was a farewell, every glance a fragment of humanity crumbling into nothingness.
Auschwitz is not just a memory; it's an experience too vast to grasp. Entering it with your mind is to shrink before the enormity of human suffering. The victims were not numbers; they were stories: a child dreaming of growing up, a mother holding her little one tightly, a man hoping only to survive another day.
Remembering today is not an obligation but an act of humility. It's allowing yourself to be pierced by the knowledge that each trace of those faces is a warning to the present. Auschwitz still speaks, in the chill of its silence, daring us to face the abyss without averting our gaze. To remember is to feel that cold, to hear that silence, and to understand they are not of the past—they live in every act of indifference we choose today.