Our legacy

The things I write just pour out, Good or bad, all at once.

Will in the future,
Anyone speak this name,
A name that represents nothing?
The non-existent, the unfulfilled,
less than memory, a chapter skipped over.
A name that had a face, a horrible shape,
that resembled death itself.
Will they find a place,
to hold the corpse of which, with no stone to mark?
To curse the ground so foul,
that worms dare not venture.
This is our legacy, dear grandfathers, this is all
Your child is nothing to the flow of time.
A wretch to ever have existed.