Throw away the flowers,
they are no use,
the faery bowers
of the former truce;
fancy quickly dies
under fear’s dark skies.

Throw away the flowers,
fetch stubborn rock;
build for the hours
of terror and shock;
go to timeless fact
for what beauty lacked.

Throw away the flowers,
the tender songs;
attune your powers
to eternal wrongs;
have but hopeless, hard
rebellion for bard.