Revolution

We were walking through dark alleys,
He lighting the way, I following,
The stench of discarded foodstuffs and
The cries of the helpless were insidious.
"Auspicious night," he whispered.
Light leaked from his lantern and
Through rats and children and hungry brothers,
Making a mess of the night.
His hand was leaden in mine,
His stride unmatchable. Still we marched.

I notice an emptiness where
Once he stood so unperturbed.
"Revolt! Revolt!" replaced bythe
Once-eased retching of men.
And his followers have donned suits
Not of crimson, but pure white.
Pretending it is not night,
They slink into impersonal high-rises,
Ignoring echoes of the shadows
They once deigned to comprehend.
The cries have not abated.
Where have you gone, friend?