The Masquerade

THE EDITOR:
The book is spent.
And, now, an Eternal Lent
To confront the navel string
To rise again, from this thing.

Our land is our History book
Glad to have had more than a look
Ancestral footsteps did toil
Never ponder a victory and the spoil

The light is night
The might, all that was right
And twinkle, twinkle little star
We have to wonder what you are.

O, land of glory
We have to worry
When all the power of our brain
Had to go down the drain!

RICHARD DINDIAL
Cunupia