Calling
Worship the meager population
of beasts
In the high house.
Few over the many.
Strategic over the blind.
We are at the stage, my friend,
Child of the night.
The beasts swing from the belfry
of the Cathedral,
Spewing mind poison through
black boxes that flash and speak.
We are at the stage,
The stage of life,
The stage of tyranny,
The stage of light,
The stage of overwhelment.
A new dawn approaches
From the darkened horizon.
We are the catalyst,
Reinvigorating the light,
Darkness reserved for night,
No more diluting of sight,
No more bliss in organized ignorance,
Wisdom, freedom reign
in this new age,
My new age,
Your new age.
A new step in evolution,
one not forgetting the soul.
Re-align the body and the mind.
Call me when we're conscious.
We'll strike up the band
to usher in the eternal daylight.
Come my children,
for I am your child.
We'll bask in the sunlight,
And bathe on the moon.
The only true freedom
Is absolute freedom.
The abuse of freedom
By the normal man is
Only the result of frustration
Through lack of freedom.
I pray to you, my children,
for I am your child,
We join as God, united
Self-god
God to all
No god from plastic tales
No god in hollowed castles,
The god of self-realization.
We are god.
We have the power.
Copyright © Alex Bruinekool | Year Posted 2010
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