Eyes that penetrate the accepted norm. Revolution sitrring, clenched fists in the air. Blood pumping in synchronization. The highest parts of their voice reveberating, a fire in the back of their throats. Sweat beads on the foreheads of those who won't forget, and blood pools in the mouths of those who won't be forgotten. We are their storybook winter, the death before our spring. Our strings have been cut, and our mouths unstitched.
The chapped lips of leaders quiver, the masses Oh! the multitude! Our hearts were pricked, and we bled openly, unashamed. A cry in the night, a wind in the desert, we sweep through, mercilessness at our heels, fury set on our eyes. The force of this water was almost too great, yet we perceived a greater truth. Perseverance is the pillar of our cause.
You shine on us
The meaning resonates deep inside, desperately we sought these things. The gears turn and we are inexorably pulled. We take up arms, and march into chaos. The night will be ripe with conflict, but the dawn will provoke calamity.
Comments
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Well, my son, you have penned a deep and moving piece here- this passage could be part of a greater thing or it can stand on its own as a moment, a memory or an exhortation towards God- almost comes off as an "onward christian soldiers" thing- stirring and well written...glad to see you post something new mister. 143 Dad
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