Looking back through thin pages of history

Human lives flash in quick succession, condensing years into a paragraph

Powerful kings into a sentence

Six lifetimes of work into a footnote

Forgotten. Almost.

Annulled from modern memory

Made to a whisper

Which only white beards hear in passing

 

Poor forgotten souls

Sitting in eternal isolation

Eye, for one, cannot see them

To me, only cloudy contours fill the boundless space 

Suggested for them after mortal life

Limited, they stay in obscurity

Outlasted by their shadows they cast

 

Change

Costing utter devotion in everyway

Every moment dedicated to those freedoms just out of reach

Right there waiting

Where no one dared to reach out before

But they did

 

Do these heroes know the difference they made?

Maybe, but often times not

Nothing ever resolves itself quickly

Quietly, yes, but making a difference has a delay

 

Determined, someone can toil their whole life, believing in better 

Breathing only one idea of equality and fall

Failing to see their creation rise

 

Ripe is the world for change ever slowly

Sent out are we to work for this end

 

Eye, for one, wish to lead and know my whole work's impression but knowingly yield to a footnote my friend