if the fools did not dream childish dreams,
and the children did not dream foolishly,
then perhaps the ancient evil
would not have crept through unnoticed.
if love could live,
and if life could love,
then perhaps the queen of hearts
would not have lost her kingdom.
if justice were law
and the laws were just,
then someone could loose my soul
from its eternal cell.
if the calm could be hushed
and the hush were calm,
then my scream might
rise above the din of this oppressive silence.
but the malevolent druid sun waxes,
all hearts have died of thirst,
and in the dungeon of my soul
the silence is as loud as the scream.
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