We Do Not Bargain For This!

Events I know are for history's gain;
must we lost for its fame?
To a course that is not plain;
now the tides are lame.

The inception rooted in blame,
in peril and in flame;
Yet, our bloods drizzled fain,
with fortitude slain.

Deny your eyes the futile sight;
when time necessitates to be blind!
Thou art thine own light,
not the indistinct gleam planted on your mind.

Lead thyself now, for history's shame,
and for the pride of the game;
For if we died together to live aloof,
then vanity is our tangible proof.