Situational Tour

Life goes on in the big city
A testament to heroes of old fades into the background
From 9-5 they shuffle on by

At the end of the day the rush begins
Caught up in the rat race, but who really wins?
Passing by, they stare straight ahead,
Soon the memory may be dead.

Modern measures to protect the art.
Is it a shield, or a cage?
The memory gets locked away.

Visitors come from far and wide,
but do they know what's kept inside?
They see the man, but do they see hi-s-tory?

A great leader on his throne,
His memory demands respect,
He alone can break the rules
Calmly seated, waiting to be forgotten

Many enter the grand hall
They pay tribute to the man,
they don't see what it used to be,
they don't see the reality of the memory

Solace for the fallen.
A permanent hush has settled on the hall.
Like dust on a mantle it blots out what people used to feel
It feels like you have stepped away from the busy world outside

Young and old they mark their visit
In an out in an instant
Few stay to learn what happened here
About the man in the chair

This shrine may be a tomb
A testament torn by time
As the days go by few remember
Few hold on to the truth behind the stone facade

The hero of a nation looks out from his seat
He watches over the seat of power
He serves as a reminder of hard fought ideals
But on this bleak day, does anyone even notice?