A city of a madman’s dreams,
And deafened to the silent screams
Of willful captives to the fears
Reconsecrating our frontiers.
We do not dread the looming night
But guide ourselves by inner light.
Yet, manifesting in that glow,
Our own combustion we would know.
The most calamitous of wars
Are waged to settle heaven’s scores,
But are as nothing to the peace
Of perfect silence, when release
Sets free the evil in the heart
Of him who would tear truth apart.
His false realities provide
His tortured soul a place to hide,
But, hidden, can’t escape the shame;
Our children’s children know his name,
And though their tortured minds grow mad
Their retribution they’ll have had.
The city now is bleak and bare,
A penitence all had to share.
Our death is humankind’s disgrace:
We were its most enlightened race.