Some call me a saint,
others call me a hellion,
but at some point revolution
must progress to rebellion.

I wanna witness...

The energetic synergy within the city limits
Pulsing with adrenaline as yesmen do business
With mysterious gentlemen in worn and weathered tenements
Indifferent of the minutemen surrounding the premises.

A genesis and exodus of textbook corruption
Eruptions of Congressmen abruptly interrupting
The voice of the denizens; citizens distrusting
The integrity of every legislation made in history

And the mystery surrounding all those slimy politicians
Discussing their envisionments and policies like madmen
Disgusting in their ways, protecting church and state,
In the government we pray: Amen.

‘Tis but the flapping of the sail,
And not a rent made by the gale!

                          H. W. Longfellow

When bureaucrats, with obfuscation
monotone in data-speak
and mumble to their mutinous nation,
bloodless vessels spring a leak.

Scan in vain the rolling breakers;
leadership is out to sea.
Overscripted undertakers
claim to speak for you and me…

The Ship of State, adrift, becalmed
floats on; a most ill-fated craft.
The body politic, unembalmed
begins to ripen fore and aft.

The crew, grown callous to the rot
and numbed by such expediency
with one last desperate cannon shot
forsake all hope of mutiny.

While computers spit statistics,
crewmen spread the expectant word;
(no more trust in mere ballistics…
hope delayed is hope transferred.)

“Make ready to abandon ship !
The captain’s just a talking head.
Lower the lifeboat, let her rip –
before, like him, we end up dead…”

The Ship of State is rent with breaches
data-leakage, data driven –
the lifeboat flounders, coral-riven
seeking distant wave-washed beaches.

The white squirrel runs free. Outcast for it difference. You know the story, it's all the same. We are all part of a huge unity. Refrain from your judgmental gazes of pain.
Some just want to see the world burn, mutiny of humanity.Release the sophisticated animal within the. for every beast will get its turn.
The white deer in its symbol for purity is hobbling. Sadly our symbols die. lie on barren plans. questioning sanity,insane, Refrain from your judgmental gaze, try to heal the pain.The dog has it's bite, and the bee its sting. the song birds still sing.
I see ******* kindness in a forest of forgotten memories
the vast vivid wilderness of pain, is the same as the one filled with such beautiful things. run free in your unified difference. notice the worlds significance. and all the energy it aims at your brain.

Marvel            at the beauty the great sea provides
Unite               against the sick power which ensnares us
Teach              the evils that we don’t serve darkness
Indulge           in the sweet luxuries we've been deprived
Night              is when we strike, then take flight in the morn
Yawn              when it’s all over and set sail on our new life