I Chant For Change

I hear the roar of reason from the depth of destruction, I see the sorrows of seasons exhuming from expanse of extinction. Is anyone in this frail field who can hear the roar of reason? Or would the youths not yield to sieve the sorrows of seasons? I hear the cry of caution from the seat of a saintly soul, I see the tears of tension bursting from a bending bole Is anyone in this terrific tower who can hear the cry of caution? Or would they preen in the pomp of power to trade our terrain for the tears of tension? I hear the voice of vengeance from the den of the downtroden, I see the end of endurance billowing to burry her burden. Is anyone awake this noble night who can hear the voice of vengeance? would they fight this fiery fight or risk seeing the end of endurance? I hear the wispers of wisdom, from the hieght of the Holies, I see the face of freedom walking out of the world of worries. Is anyone in the camp of cruelty who can hear the wispers of wisdom, or would they wait for the rod of reality to forcefully usher in the face of freedom?