Revolution's Love Song

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 05, 2018

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Submitted: August 05, 2018

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 Revolution’s Love Song

 

 

Down this silent and lonely hallway

Where I trend to roam, searching

Seeking, hoping to find –

A thousand dancing skeletons,

All those friends of mine, whom

Sit Silent in their closets,

Sit silent in their infant wombs –

Clamoring by night –

Clamoring to be heard,

Waiting silently, and Wanting –

To cry out

But too frightened to find

Snowflake hearts,

This death of light –

That waits in hunger,

They’re death of night…

 

I can hear they’re callous whispers

They’re rattles and fevered moans –

That clacking, cackling drone

Of broken and drying bones –

 

“Oh, listen – young man,” they whisper

“Oh, listen in maiden youth,

This truth that need be told –

That sunken eyes might open,

And broken hearts may see –

All the nightmares a dancing …

Dancing in our broken, zombie brains”

 

Just listen –

Listen to our song…

 

The world stands before us, Colossal

Made of old concrete and steel –

Abandoned …

Where once I saw a flower,

Where once stood a hill,

Where once grew a tree,

That grew tall and green –

Now I only find spirits

Ghosts of living creatures …

Polluted swamps and disillusioned bogs

Stinking of fever and broken fences

The broken swings of youth,

Echoing the mimic-like cries of loons

And hungry children, trapped in dying automobiles –

And by God,

I heard in their wails –

A new world forming, Concrete and mortar

A new martyr – singing

Great and beautiful fish tales,

These ghost, I remember singing –

  All those poisonous arrows flinging

Across the heavens, falling to the ground

Crushing a lonely and broken heart

Underneath the pounding of rugged bootheels,

Marching, marching, marching –

Pounding the pavement into crooked, cursed roads

That slash at the heart of heaven –

Burning across heaven,

On Kerosene and Gasoline …

 

And I find myself standing in the shadows,

Crying to remember, A face –

Her face - these lonely ghost, conspire to conceal …

But I remember her still,

A dark and beautiful stranger,

In a world grown darker and stranger still …

 

“Oh,” how they cry out, “Call up your skeletons,

Call up your feasting crows,

Let us all feast now,

 Upon the bleached bones of Angels”

 

But I reply in anger, righteously –

Let not your light go out,

Let not your candle dim,

Dear friends – Let’s trim the wick,

Let us relight the flame …

That burns the world

And sets the laughing clowns to flame …

 

Burn and burn and burn…

 

For this is the hour,

This hour just before dawn …

Where wise men gather to weep,

And old women dare to sleep …

Their dreams are all innocent …

Until the young man stretches out his arms

And lays down his life for them …

And then, And then …

 

They too, want to catch this bird a flying,

Too use its gentle wings

To lift them higher, and higher

Where they too could knock upon Heaven’s door…

 

But the hour is late,

And the old dragon wakes…

 

And he too flies,

Above the morning dew,

In a sky burning bright –

Blazing, breathing

He ignites – clouds

With dragon’s breath – breathing fire…

 

But let us move higher now,

Until we cross over Dawn’s open sea,

Like pirates,

To sharpen our blades,

And let fly our colors,

Sharpen our tongues,

And let fly our anger –

That beats our war drums,

Against these broken things –

 

That now is the hour,

It is upon us

No fear, I scream –

With Bravado –

I scream,

Not this hour, not this marrow

 

That if this, our Earthly ship should go down,

Into those stagnant waters, we call life –

Then, let us sink calmly – Like men,

Beneath waves of love.


© Copyright 2018 D. A. Anderson. All rights reserved.