Stand Up

We must fight back
Rise up against our oppressors
In silent disguises.
We must infiltrate their bases.
Their houses of laws and policies
Preserve history
Preserve the traditions and stories passed down,
It's pain, ugliness, successes, and glories

All fame comes with duty, but most fail and are buried
Beneath the immense burden of standing under constant scrutiny.
They acquiesce to wills beyond their comprehension.
Feeble attempts to fight back are numbed
By the soothing comfort of drugs and alcohol.
An opium dream
As told by Raymond Aron.

An illusion, a mirage, a utopia that will forever burn
The flames a reminder of the passions of the thinkers
The elitism grasps on in hopes of becoming
A guiding light
For the hollow souls they wish to preside over.
Like a triumphant demon.
He waits.

Trees split wide open,
Their entrails spilling out,
Bleeding out, like thick syrup
A mass of repulsion upon the ground.
All the shame of the past.
The things buried by ancestors
From every corner of the earth.

No one can escape this
This deep wound that has festered inside
And now is deep within our iron molten core
Eating the world away from the inside out
Like maggots invade an apple and ruin the interior
While the false exterior remains shiny and beautiful
All a facade.

Within are tunnels bored through
By millions of ribbons of hatred
Fueled by destruction and madness.
They create a false sense of security through violence
Successions of violence throughout the ages.
We have inherited this through no fault of our own.
It is the result of millennia of harm, of suppression

Lost voices
Buried alive
Like discarded animals that have worn out their usefulness.
I succumb to the pain,
But know I must rise and fight.
Each proponent of change forms a link.
We grow strong with every link we form.