Dare I wake tempestuous dreams of
Stormy
skies and trembling walls to
Stumble
through the midnight mire,
The
wanton waste named Yesterday.
Who
can chase this clamoring cacophony of
Warning
bells?
Who
will quell this quivering, this shivering
Of
servitude?
Once,
in youth, a vision stirred
Beneath
the willows sheltering arms
Where
every heart is filled with hope,
A
prophesy of pristine realms.
But
fate is cruel and Caesar’s rule
Requires
a tribute to be paid,
Hard
decisions to be made before
The
ogre overwhelms.
The
muddled masses must arise
In
fervor and intensity
To
keep the dream, the quest alive.
The
vision of sweet liberty.
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