The Halls of knowledge
Are still with anticipation
Nothing but silence
Nothing but silence and air.
Air that brushes the paper
Paper yellowed with antiquiry
Paper stained with ideas.
The halls of knowledge
Are still with anticipation
How do they know what to expect?

In every cranny, in every nook
In every sacred part of book
Fire holds and flames arise
In the distance you can hear the cries
Of every person, girl or boy.
For in the halls of knowledge deep
Their history finds its eternal sleep.
In a cold night, flames take hold
Of the mist and sing a hollow song.
Yellowed shelves of glory rust
ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

I feel the matches in my pocket
I feel the momentous heavy air
I look from a distance at my destruction
Damage with no possible repair.
I am the arsonist and this is my plight
"I am the arsonist" I shout as the light
shimmers and the flames subside
Farewell to the past, the future awaits!
Farewell to tradition, religion and fate!
Forward we must look,to look forward we must!
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.