Why do you look unlike you?
Why is your pallor grey?
Is it because of the ashes
that are falling from the sky today?
Is the fine dust of charred men
covering your body too?
Are you now of the many
and not of the few?
Cogs are turning, things are changing.
Beauty is vainer, ambitions plainer.
Rhyme is singing its last songs
while reason is getting saner.
So don't dust off that ash, I advice.
Don't be the exception to the rule.
For the simple man today
is being rechristened the fool.