A beginning with an end foretold
A new craving in Babel´s archive
Wills and fate every inch in contest
Coming but gone yet waiting to arrive
Illusions of grandeur built on legend lost
A museum of fallen hopes disguised as the dawn
Erected by envy, scared of the void
Oft repeated, a faded cycle oft devoured.
To bury the hatchet in the head of a common "enemy"
A "Final Solution" once tried in crimson creamed disaster
Either with a race or a face
A crime against humanity`ll never pave your case.
Rented crowds may cheer you on
But chained your soul is with,
The very chains of its deceit
So much of a dawn when darkness is born.
"........The man died in the man who stood silent in the face of tyranny." (W. Soyinka)
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