The Land Cries Out

Can you hear the rumbling rising from the east? Words of tectonic proportions are pressing, persisting moving the masses, a bundled behemoth desperate for change. As "party" heads talk over one another all around spouting clever promises, like ticker tape an unlikely one, his gold hair flung rises up with haughty tongue. And from within the great divide a plaintive cry is heard break from the lies, look deep inside, renew the search for truth and freedom to be found once more. The land cries out, no time to waste in numb passivity heed now the altar call, arise and stand, united for all the world to see. Can you hear the rumbling rising from the east? Written on 1/22/2016