A storm had brewed over Corfu Isle
Thunder roared with the sounds of revolt
Moods had fashioned this weather a while,
All that was needed was a bit of a jolt
As the young turned on us aged and wise,
Hoisting their banners proclaiming a world anew
Their teachings proclaimed our work as lies,
That the day of our judgement was rightly due
“I implore thee to spare our art and culture,”
My pleas ignored from the moment I arose
Gone was our land and its infrastructure
What was lost? We will never know.
“To know everything is to do nothing,”
The motto of the soldiers for all to see
For bread and circus was their becoming
“As the poor hunger, there is no time for poetry”
“Leave the dead unburied!
Leave our thoughts unwritten!
Leave the girls unmarried!
For with prosperity we are smitten!”
But as the world came crashing down,
And bread was passed around,
No hearts were full, no stomach content,
For off this alone, man’s soul was not meant.
