Tis all in shambles
the remains of glory glitter heniously
reminiscent of its wonders which now lay shattered and unredeemable;
could We call thou a Martyr?
but then Your sacrifice was for naught
for some freedoms to be vanquished
in the name of heroism
is worse than blasphemy!

We knew
what has been thrown asunder
crippled and aflame in the embers of Dissolution
is that where We all are headed?
towards the kindling treachery of our sins and ******* ways
licking up the darkening sky of Our last days with relish
We can see the crackling reds and oranges
burning with enthusiasm for new souls to banquish

We could see our Yesterdays in the flames that kindled before Us
endlessly burning, like the disease in Our hearts ate what made us human
endlessly aflame, like the cries for justice alit in those who were wronged

We wonder
what made Us do it all,
Fame?
Fortune?
Glory?
Love?
Or perhaps, to satiate a fanatisim?

Time has cometh for redemption...