We made it true! – like Nezach:
You could make it green, Venusian,
With tapestries of silken cloth
And flowers in profusion.
We made it true, but our truth
Is coffins and the tomb,
The skull and worm that follow me,
The concrete mortuary room.
Now that we’ve made the charnel real
It’s time for us to part;
But now we cling like poisoned ivy,
Freedom cries, “You wouldn’t try me.”
I sink through blackened sludge and slime
Fall to depths I never guessed at.
Cannot reach the light from here-
Sacrificed for trash I’m best at.