Thick and dark, intangible and seductive,
The streaming fingers of hopelessness
Seep around our ankles, oozing, grasping,
Like a rising tide of quicksand.
Groups and clubs of purposeless people,
Empty, they do not understand it’s goal:
To steal, to kill, and to destroy each one,
Systematically, methodically, in broad daylight.
Understanding, we lack the will
To stand against this thickening mass;
We think like victims, helpless against such a foe.
Who will stand, who will light the way?
Have we lost the power to rise above,
Are we helpless and doomed to drown,
Too weak and lazy to scream and shout,
Kick and stomp our way to freedom?