Perhaps it was too late for a word...
It was either the noose or the sword!
To slain and stifle the guilt out of you,
A stream of blood gushes, thy veins are blue!
This proclaims the end of an oppression
And the freedom of the slaves thee owned
These petty folks shall take thy place someday,
And resume the historical trend of depression!
They can kill a dictator but not his habits,
Slain a monster but not his legends...
The legacy you started passes on and on!
It inflicts upon a whole new generation!
Your posters hung up on their walls,
Your pictures printed in their shirts,
Your biography sold by the street,
And yet these fools say that you’re gone!
