In the shadowed realm where truth may hide,
A tale of chaos on that fateful tide,
January first, a day of dread,
The insurrection's bitter thread.
Whispers echo of a name unknown,
Who orchestrated this harrowing tone?
Faces masked, intentions veiled,
An enigma crafted, a truth curtailed.
Was it a mastermind, cunning and sly?
Or a collective force that dared defy?
Responsibility, a puzzle unsolved,
A mystery wrapped in secrets evolved.
Blame is cast upon diverse tides,
Accusations tossed, like shifting slides.
Yet truth eludes our searching gaze,
As the labyrinth deepens, we're left in a daze.
History's pages now forever marred,
By shadows cast, by trust is charred.
The January first insurrection's tale,
An enigma, a riddle that can't prevail.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem