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Freedom 1818
Et tu, Brute?
The Roman said, I say the same.
For you, you with your men and your guns-
Upon your head be shame.
The shame of the worms that shall crawl through your skull once I am finished with you.
To what purpose? You should have known
That we, we with our men and our guns and do not forget the roads,
We would beat you in the end.
Now what? What's left for you?
Nothing, I think.
Nothing; black, oblivious nothing.
Tomorrow the sun will glimpse you, briefly, near a wall.
Then- nothing.

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