How can they see you through those tired eyes?
How can a withering hand sustain a firm grip?
A brittle mind can no longer hide its lies.
The wisdom of the ancients has failed us.
They can't fight back this tide.
The perfect portrait has been soaked-
with ambiences of youth.
The walls have crumbled.
We will not be decieved.
We have the knowledge.
We understand that strength is found in numbers.
We watch power slip from their clutch.