Windfall
a burning fog rests on the land,
the old fires are not gone nor lost,
my people are arming themselves in numbers,
desperate to sleep while sick of the old world,
we are royalty among humanity,
we have rights that must endure and privileges to honor them,
and we will protect them,
again we see the coming storm on the fiery horizon,
and the insurrection from enemies within our ranks,
the spoiled children by edict,
the rakish deviants of totalitarian nightmare emotional by choice,
my home gathers breath the way that evil sleeps,
concerned and at peace,
we purge the fever with a drink,
condemning the thorn by pulling it,
keeping our children from the fire,
pulling ourselves from the thieving darkness,
the blind worries without remission,
the sad sorrows without regret,
while the hypocrites serve as stones in the street,
that chaos a word in our language is forever remembered,
and the weeds of the old warring ways are kept at bay,
roots of fascism drink our water,
fire of anarchy breathes our air,
lies of envious fools pass us,
as the moon escapes the tide,
with revolution our dream and your nightmare,
we study the savior sinner fastidiously