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Hypocrisy of the Rebirth

I stand upon a barren hill,
A bitter, grassy knoll
That has not known a human touch,
A human mind, or soul.
Nine hundred years itís lived alone
Still memíry haunts its past,
For the mound is desperate artifice,
A contrived and cunning masque.

Too many souls are hidden here,
In death and glory bound.
Those sacrificed for politics
Are buried Ďneath this ground.
They killed the children; burned and slew
The innocent and young.
Then hid their guilt with filth, and with
Rebellious anthems sung.

For who were they to stand and sing
Victorious refrains
In mockery of those that died en masse
Without their names?
They dared to glorify two children
Dancing in the street,
And forget the nameless souls of children
Killed with their deceit.

'Hypocrisy of the Rebirth' copyright Caroline Heske, 1999