The Red Palace

Every red wall and every silent hall
of you cried crimson blood and called
on us desperately the day of our sad fall.
You kept part of our heart on our depart.
We were your offspring yet to be born
Hidden under the tiles and the golden throne
Latent in every believing rock and unifying stone
We would be the youth history undermines
Who carry the pristine truth deep in our spines
We bring the shining signs and we don’t mind
if we wander like motherless children, torn and worn
suffering after the disgraceful surrender.
Everywhere we go, we’re seen with scorn
and we’re doomed for now to mourn
the lost glory and breathtaking splendor
Though, we heard the sentinel’s horn warn
against the blinding light we engender.
They fear it sweeps the horizon like a morn
of everlasting truth that hides no malice.
A people that will finally revive and adorn
the callous walls of the glorious Red Palace.

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