The Inevitable

With a thief or slave for a hero in the country vast
Where souls become covered, like snow, with a crust,
Where the killed are great in number,
Where the conscience of ours
has fallen into slumber,
Where Spirit and Temple alike are profaned,
Where a cad triumphs with ignorance unfeigned,
For the right to be my true self
A boundless price I pay should suffice.

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(Modify date): 18.10.01 23:07