The euphoria and the elation
Of those within and beyond the realm
Phasing out into Shoel, the great pit.
Here is the apogee of frustration
The nudity of political perversion.
As myself
Look in the mirror
The untarnished self;
Portrait of my innermost horror
I see in my awakened stupor…
For in the depths of my solitude
As my mind waves in its vicissitudes
I fear what self
I BE-PURE TERROR
If hope be but a concrete dream
Fear me; here it’s but a mirage
For true I can’t my illusions assuage
And my frustration has topped its brim.
In this cycle of horror, of pain
I see fleeting images of war
And if with myself be at par
Have we
MADE OR MARRED?
Wherein lays the lofty purpose?
For which many now in peace repose
Of which much was said and put to prose
Whereis the Republica?
Whereis its flavor and aroma?
Herein this mass all is anathema
Herein corruption optima pessima
HERE IS THE REPUBLIC!
« return.