Is Paris Burning?
A distant message.
In a time long before.
To only appear in our time again.
To end with tears.
To many have fallen to fear.
Rage rolls over with empathy.
But vengeance grows like roots of a tree.
To never forget, to never allow ideas to encompass rationality.
To dictate our being, even when they are against the innocent.
No crime can be dictated by these terms, for they are beyond any judge.
For there are no words as they may be fruitless in the heat of summer.
Loosing there meaning, but the pain remains with hunger.
Fleur de lis will live long.
For the turmoil of revolutions, cumbersome, but enduring.
Its history will be its milestone.
But its people will decide their fate.
Calling for more death to an idea that some believe to be there golden path.
The resistance is an old name, but it will be what will make the strong separate from the weak.
Blessent mon cœur
D’une langueur
Monotone.