The first rays of dawn sit lazing on the horizon,
but a heavy wind is rushing in.
A swirling vortex of pain
for anyone that gets in the way.
It can’t be seen in the light of day,
just a slight stain in the universal consciousness.
A sense of foreboding makes
a home in the bones within
and like animals before disaster
we prickle with fire inside our blood.
Looking for signs of impending night,
looking for the things that cause us fright.
The flight instinct is high.
Something is coming in a flood,
a wave of hurt to wash away the peace
that has been flowing gently.
The news drizzles out lies
to unsuspecting ears
in trickles of truth,
propaganda and fear.
It blurs the lines,
selling us a story, of us vs them,
good vs bad, divide the room,
set the coin spinning,
whichever side it lands on
will be our downfall.
Hear the call through the gloom.
The storm is near.
The hail is here, a thousand cuts as
it makes lands fall and people run in fear.
Hear the drumming,
of the raining fire.
Hear the marching,
the machine gun fire.
Hear the storm
as it inches closer.
Hear the screams
as they screech higher.
Hear the end as it begins.
Hear the sins of man
becoming thunder
as anger reigns again.
Hear the lighting of the funeral pyre.
The noose is around our necks
A lasso around the chest,
we are caught in the nets,
as the dredging of humanity begins.
Scream, for it will be
the sound of our times,
the song we will sing every night.
The lullaby that says goodnight to the fire.
The storm is here
It has been here for longer
than most care to hear,
we dare to be brave
and hold ourselves proud.
We raise our voices loud,
to be heard above
the hateful clouds
that crowd around.
On the horizon
those grey darkening skies,
so angry, inspiring fear.
But I know in my heart
that beyond the grey
a brighter day
always sits in wait,
if we can just clear the air.
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