Revolution
When the air that we breathe becomes air we choke,
and the fires burn and consume all of our hope,
in the tears of anguish a nation will soak,
no longer could we the people hear the pope.
The skies will burn an angry crimson
and the corrupt will pay their dues,
pay for their crimes of atrocity and treason
with their lives as the revolution ensues.
But sometime in the future new problems will arise
with more people oppressed in all new ways,
cutting people down to their appropriate size,
all the way to the end of man's days.
In the cycle of humanity all will end in blood,
one day welling up in a world ending flood.
Copyright © Jonathan Siegel | Year Posted 2015
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