Moonlight Mutiny

gunpow1

Send the call by way of land,

by wire, mouth, and sea

and let resound the trumpets, all

to bring us forth — the free;

we emerge, like light in shadows

dancing underneath the trees,

my friends and I, a cloud of dust

to spurn and steer the eyes

of history.

Now, Isis teeters on the brink

of tumbling to the ground,

her scales were broke by weight

of debt, the desperation of the crowds;

Thus, we pirouette by moonlight down

the halls of wealth and drown

the bastards all in fire,

and leave the higher ranks

to build our case, propounding

ways of disposition.

The hellions plea for mercy,

though none was shown to us;

they cry loud for compassion —

for a soft and lenient touch…

‘so wounded’ by our treachery,

which they could not foresee,

offensive tinge of red upon

the collar, starched and clean,

supreme!

Scoffing, they all stammer

wondering, what mien or manner

and what sinful, vile behavior

from a countryman, indeed!

They call us many nasty things,

to chill the blood within the veins

and give us names that turn the cheek,

like insurrectionist or freak, communist,

plotter, anarchist, or bother,

bleak, and so verbose

as to ensure everyone knows and

all endure their smug tirade.

But we, the free,

initiated by the blood we gave

have waited far too long for victory

to be beseeched or bought;

Nay, I pray that on that night

we’ll show no mercy; only spite

and rancor, much deserved and wrought

by wickedness and wretched lies…

Our justice will not quickly end

nor will they suffer kindly then

for their crimes and sins against

all man, they pay the highest

price.

We’ve come, at last, to seize

the very breath these vultures

breathe — we will not go quietly,

nor for one moment sit idly,

nor shall we suffer any longer

at the hands of mortal men —

the very same as you and I.

For it is yours and mine, alike

this world, so now we stand and

fight and if we fall, it is for

freedom’s sake we make that

gravest sacrifice.

Come now, brothers one and all

sisters, mothers as well

fathers, sons, and daughters,

we must not give up!

Go, tell the earth the bell

of liberty is ringing clear

from sea to sea,

and before the dawn has come

we shall go forth, as one,

the free.

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About John Chronikal

John Chronikal is a blogger, storyteller, poet, artist, composer, and songwriter. He loves to drink bourbon and write things that make his poor grandmother cringe. He is a gigantic man –– his bear hugs can crush bones –– but he is a gentle giant. Give him bourbon and chocolate and he will be your bestest friend forever. View all posts by John Chronikal

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