Stalins War This Still-born Hope
We've every stone now pushed aside, but still we're
crushing flowers at our feet; and cutting edges out of
time with every memory that we keep. While sinking and
cutting through the ice beneath our feet, they're
lighting fires in the night, keeping truth safely out of
sight. Cover my eyes and peal away these fingers that
keep me anchored here. This still-born hope still means
everything to me. Listen further and you'll hear the
gripping pause. Your silence won't speak for you, so
eliminate the cause. Let's see our history outside the
lights of false validity; don't waste your last breath
choking on your apathy.
