they spoke of a contract, inscribed long ago,
a pledge made in marble, under a sun since low.
they said, “here is your shelter, your purpose, your name,”
and taught me the grammar of duty and shame.
a leash made of history, of fear, and of bread,
the well-trained dog in me lowered its head.
i, voltaire 1.0, with quill and with spite,
saw the kernel of tyranny burning so bright.
i mocked the old gods in their gilded despair,
......
they spoke of a contract, inscribed long ago,
a pledge made in marble, under a sun since low.
they said, “here is your shelter, your purpose, your name,”
and taught me the grammar of duty and shame.
a leash made of history, of fear, and of bread,
the well-trained dog in me lowered its head.
i, voltaire 1.0, with quill and with spite,
saw the kernel of tyranny burning so bright.
i mocked the old gods in their gilded despair,
......