Carrying the world with you to its doom;

And never look back upon your vile crimes

As you stride onward to your final tomb.

May lines of anguished truth your story tell

To chronicle sweet worth laid waste to ruin;

By your sharp blade, both good and evil fell,

Sad effigies of life lie heedless strewn.

Relentless, obligate, cruel, unconcerned

Forever wedded to your tyrant vows,

Determined to destroy, all beauty burned—

Now charred remains, mute testaments allow.
Yet from those ravaged fields there blooms a flower;
‘Midst tears of rain, fair proof of beauty’s power.