Beneath the sunlit dome of sky,
Where whispers of winds and rivers sigh,
Lies a shadow, a wound unhealed,
The truth of mankind, long concealed.
We stand, architects of dreams and light,
Yet builders, too, of endless night.
The seeds of cruelty in our hands,
We plant them deep in foreign lands.
The pages of history bleed and stain,
With tales of greed, and...
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