we, the working people

leaving bricks to testify.and destiny perceived,the debt relieved,who pays the cost to die?the hallowed clothedin rags and dust,kneel beneath the cross denied.we pray to ghosts,while ignorance grows,walking suicides.still the rebel windbreaks windowpanes,tears roofs from vacant souls.calling to the few,who dare be true,to give what cant be sold!

the flicker and flameof small twigs burningreturns light to the stars.the rumble of distant thunderin every leaf that falls.a prayer held in everydropp of rain… a babyborn in the face ofevery mountain’s movement…the depth of love ragingbeneath the snows of winter….death, or spring….. time decides….each has it’s own cup!each has it’s own flame!

i will disarm you!God

my grandmother’s kitchen,after working outside all day.rain, just before it falls,a fresh plowed field.my mother’s old Bible,a fireplace too long unused.old nuts, your pillow,the old pine tree that felland lay rotting in the yard.a well oiled glove,the tractor in the barn.your hair, a rose just opened,the box too longin the back of the closet.

the many stand up to the few.equal compensation, strong dedication,demanding what they’re due!human rights, the depths and heights,hunger drives the soul to battle..tired of chains, working for change,putting faces on the cattle!the first day of forever begins now.tear it down, it doesnt matter how.tired of lying lips and sacred cows….the mind only buys what the…

wipes the sweatfrom my forehead…or perhaps it’s only the windthat i have come to know…the mountains i climbednow look like foothills….the tips of my wings charredand dredged through oil.the dreams i held,dreams of flesh and spirit,now blow like dustinto the darkness of night.and the taste of bloodnow need be nothing more….the river i felt inside…