The Beating Drum Of Our Ancestors Echoes, Their Statues Scowl And Sneer Founders Of Civilisation, Isn’t It Clear We’ve Forgotten All That Was Ever Held Dear, There Is Nothing To Cherish, Except For Empty Sacred Spaces, Another Steeple Of Light Perishes In The Twilights Flame, The Architecture Of High Culture Encircled By A Kettle Of Vultures, Gathering For The Wake, Feasting On The Woke, Give The Lying Beast A Poke, The Dying Gaul Is A Friend To All, Extending His Hand From The Grave, Offering My Friendship And Aid, But To Relinquish My Shield Is To Surrender And Fade.
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