Burrowing in dark forbidden passages
Of nothingness is something much akin--
Akin to singing songs against the wind.
Hopelessly forgotten ineptitudes
Of misplaced reality--Besotten attitudes;
Erased--and little could you realise then--
True tragedy awaits.
Nightmares of injustice roam freely through
Both time and space--the same,
Giving passage to fear of thought
Processing what havoc's wreaked
And sins have bought--
Yet there's no shame
And on it travels--Though going nowhere.
Making an effort to undo what has been done
Is all but useless--For the fire of its hatred
Burns you all in effigy.
