*The papers are in disrepair, but the words and script elegantly written.*

"Give me your trust," said the Gods. "On our shoulders, we support the heavens." "Trust us to know and to do what is best." "And we will take care fo the rest." But Trust is the color of the dark seed growing. Trust is the color of the Heart's blood flowing. Trust is the color of the soul's last breath. Trust is the color of death.

"Give me your trust," said the queen on her Throne, "For I must bear the burden all alone." "Trust me to lead and to judge and to rule, and no man will think you a fool." But trust is the sound of the grave-dog's bark. Trust is the sound of betrayel in the dark. Trust is the sound of the soul's last breath. Trust is the sound of death.

*The poem is scattered anout lower, mainly in alley ways and the like. but more or less where people will see it.*