Am I prepared to take the leap?
Is this the lesson life will keep?
I gaze ahead toward something bright,
But only ashes burn in sight.

Who’ll return what once was whole?
Who’ll raise the artist’s shattered soul?
Not the one who walked away —
He saved himself, let truth decay.

He built a world in his own frame,
To hide his faults, avoid all blame.
How long will truth be sold and bought?
How long will lies be all we’re taught?

You live like serfs in iron chains,
Obey the word while silence reigns.
You’re nothing here — just castaways,
More chains await in future days.

Chains for the brave who dared be free,
Who burned with rage, defiantly.
The ones torn from their home and bed,
Now scattered wide, left cold and spread.

Will they return, those cast abroad?
Will they come home, reclaim the sod?
No — nevermore. That hope has fled.
Their graves stand still.
Their soup went cold…
They laugh, “You will be dead!.”

But it is a lie…

Those cast abroad just march ahead

To fight with fire like mad and rad…(poem)