A time and place unknown this all must be a dream,
As belief eludes the reality of what I have seen.
They are marching fools bred from blank acolytes,
Their vision absconding with ever dimming lights.
Fighting one power only to create the subsequent,
Following a leader whose truth is woefully absent.
Burn it all down screams the proletariat aloud,
Burying their hope for in the victory it drowned.
Looking for answers in places where questions lie,
Living such a lie logic can only crumble and cry.
Praise the vindication though it is wholly unseen,
Pray like a fool for those still living this dream.