unseen by all but one,
He knows what we could've been,
he knows that we haven't won.
The whisper of a forgotten regime,
unheard by all but one,
He knows about our scheme,
he knows what we had done.
The touch of a distant past,
unfelt by all but one,
He knows that it was our last,
he knows that we still run.
The taste of a silent soul,
untasted by all but one,
He knows what we stole,
He knows its already begun.
The whiff of a new day,
unsmelt by all but one,
He knows we see the decay,
he knows it can't be undone.
He is known by many names,
heard by all but one,
He doesn't see your claims,
He can't remember what he's done.
He has a place in history,
but no one knows his story.
He can listen, smell, taste, touch and see
He was a man but nobody agrees.
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