White is black; the black of fear
Where time shouts “all you here
Come close, come hear”
The zombies of history stand
Poker faces, frozen hands
Dumb before the dazzling white
Stunned by the red beacon light
They stand upon their cowardly shame
Time knows they are to blame.
On the nascent throbbing brain
Like a fresh drop on a window pane
Warped history some figures made
Ensured the sham would never fade
Made certain to annul every date
With time; history’s older mate
For dignity clothed in robes so chaste
Defiled, would flee in vulgar haste
From the nascent throbbing brain
Reckless in its stupor, but not insane
Not so young now, not the same
Would turn the pages, feel the shame
See through the twisting corridor of lies
Walls smudged with tears that echo with cries
Over foul dumps of vices reveling like flies
They will forever stand forever rejoice
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