The Mirth of Monsters

A picture appeared on my phone today, on the proverbial page I perused. A view of an evil most vile, villainy veiled behind verve and vim. Sadists from Auschwitz, smiling in a storm. Shoulders shrugging, to shield from the sky. No hint of the horrors, the Holocaust they heralded. Not haunted like the humans they harrow, but hyenas, howling, in high humor after the hunt. Their consciences clear, their cruelty concealed, their cheer chills me to the core. They caused such wicked calvary, a calamity that echoes into the current century. Yet they dare to delight, while they deal in death and dread. Their depravity so deep that they grin, as they decry virtue and destroy millions. But what mortifies me more is, how mundane their mien. Will we fear the next fiends fittingly, or in time... if their faces feel like friends'?