Wednesday, November 21, 2012

A whisper in the dark

A whisper in the dark,
The spirit of turmoil
Looms large.

Neither indoor nor out,
It sways like the branches of a tree
Under streetlight shadows;

Like one who sat there to learn,
And then conquer better terms,
Of words to make freedom,

Bound by conspiration, 
Discontent, quiet,
A vindictive reservation.

The masses cry,
And call for a hanging,
A flogging, a quarter,

To fill the despair,
Of hopeless gods,
Who beat chests,

And bloody sacred grounds,
For votes of power,
To veto oaths of ancestors.

A whisper in the dark,
The spirit of turmoil,
Looms large.







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