under the cloud

 those are the places that have lost their names

gaining thereby not even a tin piece

that some bright spark might give out of caprice

too keep hope going in the complex games

of pride and anger but there are few shames

that will get those who've been fucked just to cease

once they've been shown up for all time as geese

since they'd much rather go into the flames

all tortures will destroy those who are brave

no matter what they say but never mind

there are no secrets will be left intact

on this side of the shelter of the grave

hope will remain for those who still are kind

to all who know just how their world is wracked