Beyond the storm of screams and groans And cries of a wretched tortured people, Lies a child curled, fists to his ears Consumed by the roar and fury Of a haunted Peace.
Sweetening his ears now burned to whitened noise By a howling rain of fire now a righteous silence, Drowning drunken senses, limbs torn Through melted sight alighting upon
A Carpetbagger selling dreams that burn In a thousand desert skies, forging death from Brightly shining steel devouring reasonable men, Tearing life and concrete, tearing hope removing choice
Where none has cause to breathe in freedom’s wrap. A stranger’s spell illuminates a trail of tears To both terrify and transform A boy to cinder stone.
Wise men speak while their people light up the sky Like shooting stars across a deep blue stage. ‘Wild el shawarig’ like broken dolls Shield Right from might, lighting such a candle By the Grace of God.
What politics condemns a desert boy? What victory dilutes our shame? What sweet Reason seduces Conscience, Quickens blood that innocence May die for reasonable men?
Reasonable men hold loving children, reasonable men, reasonable men.
Down the drain, down the drain, follow the sand down the drain. His soul woven cloak awaits, scythe in hand, ferry leaving the docks. Crooked steps, cold and blackened breath, take me unto you. One leg in the grave, half
MEN OF LETTERS is a secret underground society, some say they’ve been around since the 1930’s, some say they go all the way back to the Knight Templars, all I know is that they still exist today but don’t ask
(America, following a landmark agreement) Dear Mr. President, Was it worth it? Was it worth Selling your country’s freedom, The liberty it is so famous for, For a few extra bucks in your pocket? Was it worth Strangling the creative