In the madhouse,
after the day of punishment
you walk naked.

Stunned, it was
legalized, pain that will
rule. Never more than pain
of peers was to be accepted.

Would you like to
rest under the palm tree
in scanty shade?

Utopia was no more
in our vision. You invent
scary contraptions stealing from
tribal myths.

Let me not mourn for
myself. Renaissance
reverts. Who was changing
the history?

Not political, my despair
was for you.