But with the
dawn he'll read again forbidden, ancient text
One: THE MAD HISTORIAN
a great historian will shiver in his bed
and wish again
that he'd become a janitor instead.
He'll curse that
nagging tendency to study history,
his secret, sick
obsession with that morbid century.
if those people knew just what was coming next;
of brutalities with black technologies,
judgment from above that brought them to their knees.
By candlelight he scans the words for secret little signs;
for subtle indications tucked away between the lines,
for hidden clues that might explain the source of all their pain,
or how these titans of the past would come to go insane.
of hidden photographs he studies through the day,
in photographs, the voices of the dead,
with hopes to better
understand what led them all astray.
Displayed in stark
reality, a rising cruelty;
of mustard gas on faded imagery.
of corpses by the crematorium;
the ancient ghastly
evidence of what they had become.
as predators for use within their wars,
with soldiers living
deep inside, behind the bolted doors.
The ocean beaches
crimson red from bodies floating near;
atomic blasts and
firestorms as cities disappear.
From high above
an air machine with jellied gasoline;
while down below
the jungle burns in carnage now routine.
for him through plains of time and speak inside his head.
with him a memory of wanton savagery,
when all that cursed our souls would finally break free.
in the fading light at history revealed,
decisions made which keep the records sealed;
die with horrid screams in tortured, nightly dreams,
remains of sanity gets pushed beyond extremes.
riddle then returns to haunt his mind again.
a strong intoxicant to make his mind go numb,
The fate of ancient
relatives, of gods that could have been;
what lesson did
they all ignore, what final global war?
set them back a thousand years or more?
fights the growing need to sleep in fear of dreams to come.
hides his artifacts away and ends another day,
ghastly sights of history inside his head to stay.
a mad historian will lose control of dreams.
his head on padded walls and echo ancient screams.
He'll gouge his
eyes in agony and beg to be set free,
from sights and
sounds endemic to that morbid century.