There a rose condemned by most,

For in his thorns dark crimes host.

Healthy red in his petals bloomed,

Made from cries of those they doomed.

The crown of glory he reached out,

Masked with kindness, sympathetic bout.

Rewriting the shadows of his past,

The gullible forgets his errors too fast.

Some screamed he was a victim, too,

Caught in between what's false and true.

Neglecting facts and biting lies,

The dead could only feast with mice.

Sure in their graves they're mourning still,

Their story distorted, they're worthy to kill.

For peace in the past was given for those,

Who to their regime didn't oppose.

So then those that has groaned so far,

Were supposed villains who thirst for war.

And they're just forced to slay their throat,

To keep the country's harmonious note.

Jumped half a century and you'd see,

What has become of democracy.

True there is still a lot to fix

But there should no lies to history mix.

Now that the rose desired the red,

Waste not the blood the silenced hero shed.

Let not their lies fed your thought,

That you forgot how your freedom they sought.

Tolerate not the way they played,

Let not their guilt in your innocence bade.

Never again should we let them try,

Never again should an innocent die.