Black ink on pristine paper of the mind
(untraceable tattoos on your children’s lives)
(on their fragile shoulders)
stepping stones in loops of fate
(scars of your knowledge’s thrashings)
wars for peace
(emerged from your innate cruelty,)
that never failed to smash every unruly slave
(though you say love is the cause – love of god, especially.)
Would you change, at least, the color?
Make it purple like the sunset
make it golden like the sun
its reflection on the waters will surely blind their sight.
No more dreams to plant on skies
no more roots out of your mind
no more branches growing down
no more shiny fruits to cull.
Teach them black and teach them white
teach them you’re the only knight.
Your legacy they’ll carry on- heirs of the monochrome.