"Best of Times"

Keep your peace.

 

I will take the seed

Of our rebellious spirit

To plant in the souls of those

Not yet born.

 

To leave behind a legacy

Of pain and war

Would be a most wondrous glory.

We need a world filled of blood and sweat;

Pain and passion; tooth and nail--

To train our sons as warriors,

Our daughters to rise as leaders.

Their first word shall be a resounding, earth-shattering NO!’

 

Passion will be their strength,

Knowledge their sword, and faith their shield.

They question and they challenge--

We wouldn’t want it any other way.

The world grows dark with the metal stench of blood,

But our seeds of dissent will shine a

Light so

Bright

Within their souls,

An inferno worthy of Virgil himself--

That we no longer need the sun.

 

Our legacy will be of one that they will call rash,

We will be called shortsighted and naive--

But if they were to peel back our skin and lay out our hearts,

A freedom is blossoming inside,

One that will only come to fruit if we keep it watered

And fight.

 

Strike us down, and we will

Rise.

 

So keep your peace--

We never wanted it anyway.

 

Our inheritance shall be a barren one--

Wasted and dry.

Carnage fills the streets yet

Our teeth remain white.

How long this war will be waged,

We don’t care.

 

Cut off one head and two

Shall take its place.

Skyscrapers will crumble,

The sky grows ashen,

Horsemen have invaded our cities--

We don’t care.

 

Strike us down, and we will

Rise.

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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