November 18, 2005

• from the haunts of daily life
  where is waged the daily strife
  common wants and common cares
  cut the human heart with tears

  Rise like lions after a slumber
  In greatly unknowable numbers

  let the tyrants pour around
  with apocalyptic sound
  on the charge of iron wheels
  and the crash of horses heels

  from the workhouse and the prison
  pale as corpses newly risen
  knives are drawn now let them see
  standing tall that say they're free

  your strong and simple words
  set to wound as sharpened swords
  wide as targets let them be
  with their shade to cover me

  • 6:52 pm
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