I
We am a paraplegic generation in a paralysed century:
Stuck in a rut of time, between the haze of a forgotten past,
Unwritten (hi)stories of glory and of its transcension into the day before us here;
And the blank pages of unwritten comings,
That we paraplegics and mentally disabled's are to write upon!
She could not have wished for more inaction in animation than here she has been presented with.
Statues were never stiller before, and I wasn't more shamelessly idle before.
I will only watch decay and disorder dancing in my yard with shallow stone eyes,
As they stamp Mother's flowers flat and shatter Father's dreams for me and you and our land,
And you, Father, can lay in bed and hope, pray, cry -
Await your time, as your eyes sparkling humble honest dreams go blinded white.
Until you and those of your stock shall obliviate...
II
Until you and those of your stock shall perish!
And we shall be born devils from stone shells into the phantasmic night,
And play at havoc in the Gotham of disorder and decay;
Waltz with banshees in your hall, to the music of destruction.
IV
When land snatched, pride stolen, love disfigured,
Were born out of chemicals and radiation, in riots and rapes,
The children of Stunn, as she watched numb'd the rampant ravage,
In her sick stomach we took form, as she stood helpless in the mi(d)st of..
Surrounded by explosions and inferno under devious clouds of acid.
I took form, the son of the Disarmed; in stone, my face was written.
And in stone I was conceived, bearing great pain to 'Ma'.
In stone I lay, and in stone shall I forever.
