To The Silenced

Oh, the great city's madness when at nightfall

The crippled trees gape by the blackened wall,

The spirit of evil peers from a silver mask;

Lights with magnetic scourge drive off the stony night.

Oh, the sunken pealing of evening bells.

Whore who in her icy shivers sheds a still-born child.

With raving whips God's fury punishes brows possessed.

Purple pestilence, hunger that breaks green eyes.

Oh, the horrible laughter of gold.

But silent in dark caves a stiller humanity bleeds,

Out of hard metals moulds the redeeming head.