The revolution of the mind and heart.

The human spirit responds to suffering.
It reaches out of it's darkness towards a light perceived even if not fully seen.
From our wet wombs of torture
Great works are born.
Scowl and cry, curse those who steal
and try to crush under their boots.
Only keep the reminder
Strength is a spiritual virtue
Under your pillow at night.
Let your fingerprints explore it in it's reverse braille.
We are entering a darker age
Fighting it as a Roman Lord swats at flies
While lying prone from overindulgence
In his vomitorium.
Those who have eyes and ears
With senses tuned to beyond the flesh
View from the Prophet's throne
Though their mouths move
The shouts of the blind, deaf and dumb
Drown their sound.
But not for long.
Hunger kills useless motion
And when the pitiable lie
Restless in their pain.
Twisting and turning as the surgeons
Remove their material limbs.
Then the tongues will wag on the ends of fingers
The paint will pour forth with teeth and crone's eyes.
The Prophet will be reality once more
Not just another commentary to be placed
In the files of fads.
All will remember what it means to be human,
That sharing is all there is,
Nothing more
Nothing less.
Then shall we reach up to the fire of the Muse
and cleanse ourselves in agony of Truth.
Raise our arms in celebration
And say
Without the Dark we cannot know what light is.
We lost our way in the grey
Only in being struck blind
Can we see.
Take these senses from me
They are useless
Create for me anew
Create for you anew
Create for us anew
This is the only way to evolution.
The revolution of the mind and heart.

RMRF 12.08