But to chart a different way.
Against the impulse of the day.
That struggle, friends, yes, it’s real.
A war to govern how we feel.
Mobilized and intervening.
Intending to determine meaning.
Not for one, but for all.
Could this be our future’s call?
A shred of hope? A common cause?
A tossing of some manmade laws?
Wanting peace, to be acceptable,
Has made us all susceptible.
Susceptible to the whim.
Whim that lends things far more grim.
Gathering numbers for a cause.
Watching, waiting, given pause.
First the statues then the corpses.
These things follow certain courses.
How it seemed all right and good.
But it’s been misunderstood.
The coin it flipped, the table turned.
Revealed a lust to make it burn.
Burn it all to the ground.
Resistance making not a sound.
For it’s frozen, stands in fear.
The edge again has drifted near.
Battles in streets and homes and steads,
And more so in our twisting heads.
A revolution waged inside,
And cast-ed rues far and wide.
The civil on a precipice.
The threshold of a genesis.
Of what and how and when and why.
To what extent shall we comply?
Would death reach me not too fast?
Could freedom not yet be surpassed?
Not for once or through this strife.
For it’s the basis of all life.
Culture shifts before our eyes.
Will theft precede the assize.
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