They called the darkness light
and with hot pokers glowing red burned out our eyes.
They cursed at sun and moon and stars
and forced us down into the blackest pits and darkest caves.
Our priests belied our fears.
They said they knew, and we were fools to question them.
O sacch'rine, smiling saints
who led us down into the earth;
O shriveled, shadowed shells of men,
what have you done?
Here smiling underground, we shun what light invades, and cower in the craggy holes we’ve dug. “But we are wise,” we say, “and only we have seen the light.”
Tale Told 