Revolution is a Song of Hope
When history has no answer to the question it has posed
and oppression’s dark grasp constricts the heart
When ideas are empowered over happiness
and opportunity’s lustrous glow dims
Flickers
And goes out
They talk of revolution
Each foaming fleck of tide perceives itself possessing a direction
And revolution is its song of hope
The moon it is
That pipes tide's tune
And the singing flecks of tide’s ovation
The pull
The sweep
Of history’s dark sway
Assures the next dark movement of its day
And to the small still-rooted reed
Their song of hope is the birth-cry
Of the next oppression
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