Wilhelm, und Jacob.
I can not thank you enough.
With blue, and white cover you hold the past.
Tell me the stories of Elfte-urgroßmutter.
Tell me of children playing at slaughtering.
Tell me of black, and white text where life was living.
Save rose-coloured glasses,
I want but truth, history, and hope for the future.
I want a night with you, and tea
I want to curl up by the fire,
Bathe in the well of your knowledge,
Curl around your words of time,
Kiss your princes of heritage,
Until the past seeps out of my pores,
And my soul is renewed for the present.
The present you give each read-through,
As if it be a play with my role as each within.