“Although
your eyes were wide open, they might just as well’ve been closed”
The group of entangled, power-corrupters,
Controlled their multiple, re-dedicated crimes,
Endangering the lives of many crusaders,
Over the weight we bore through time.
I said there is no reason, and the truth is plain to see,
Then he wandered through his playing cards,
He couldn’t let her be…
And so it was that later, as the miller told his tale,
The games that he engendered, were bound by right to fail,
He lied in the face of reason; desolation, corruption was his trail,
The ones that held the burden, continued along the scale,
There was no twisting way out, more excuses were to no avail,
Something was changing,
Some people were delivering the mail, and…
Then his face at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale.
Cynthia Stewart and Procol Harem” A Whiter Shade of Pale
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