Dirty cobblestone streets
dimly lit by Marxism-Leninism.
Blood runs through the cobblestones
pooling and lost between the cracks.
Dilapidated buildings of splendour,
a history long forgotten in obedience.
Books burnt long ago now never exist;
music played long ago now never heard.
Dancing and laughter cause suspicion,
breading horrific intelligentsia paranoia.
Broken instruments pile up on street corners,
and bright clothing is now just a false memory.
Dirty streets washed in creative blood,
staining the cobblestones with our love.