In Dreams 808
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In dreams I perceive
Fragments of machinery
Scattered all over
Factory floors. In the blue
Distance: tolling bells.
The ancient pictures are torn
From the temple walls.
The ghosts of blood stained martyrs
Haunt the alley ways
And vast, abandoned buildings.
No new flowers grow,
The eyes are always watching
From metal towers.
The truth is always hidden
From the citizens.
The silence is deafening
In the control room.
Orders are simply obeyed.
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