They built their power on broken wills, Turned quiet streets into marching drills. Truth was rewritten, line by line, Even the clocks obeyed their time. Crowds repeated what they were fed, Chanted for futures already dead. But every system hums one tune— The louder it screams, the faster it’s doomed. And the silence waits, patient and sure, It buries the names that thought they’d endure. Every voice that forced us to kneel— Now just dust on history’s wheel. Walls had ears, and neighbors spied, Cold eyes watched as freedom died Their laws were written in whispered fear, But time kept marching; it didn’t hear. They built their gods in their own face, But even gods rot out of place. And when they fell, no one cried— Only shadows watched them die. And the silence waits, patient and sure, It buries the names that thought they’d endure. Every voice that forced us to kneel— Now just dust on history’s wheel. No parades, no songs, no flags to defend, Just quiet streets where fear had an end. And in the stillness, one truth stayed clear— Tyrants vanish, but people remain here. The silence waits, it always wins, It buries the shame under skin. And when they’re gone, who recalls their name? Only the scars whisper what they became. Power shouts; time erases. Always. © 2025 Absolute Elsewhere. All rights reserved. Unauthorized use or redistribution is prohibited.
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