Revolutions gone bad ,
The graves lay barren,
In our quest for immortality,
Living our deaths, day to day.
This day, the Lord forgotten,
In miseries, we still seek poets,
Their twisted words, their politics,
To shelter us from the war of minds.
The mighty shall prevail, they say,
When nothing left to conquer;
Death will have his last laugh,
Our scum are no longer his to take.
Foes and friends, poetry in head,
Faces unknown, face to face,
Drawn swords and broken lives,
Thirsting over a fallen dream.
The fox that set this revolution,
Lay quiet in an only grave,
Into the mud he sank,
No more words, no more wisdom,
In search of wealth, the rest left,
Fighting over paper like it were god,
Fires that raged, set forth one nation,
Glory onto man, under shut eyes of the Lord.
Sunday, July 31, 2005
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