By Mark Turner
Dawn varies from dusk to dawn for a reason
Their hours of light between them gleams from season to season
Yet hate and anger are acceptable and in fashion.
Embolden now by a deluge of falsehoods and empirical passions
Determined to follow the ventriloquist set
Bound to enter another cynical stage of rage and decadence
Still, the latest version of idol indifference comes with an expansion tied to its very existence
But, waiting for this era to dissipate by attrition finds us in the crosshairs of roughs with ample ammunition.
Aiming at the core of our very existence with deadly defiance
Another entry point by fear and loathing of a treacherous alliance
With each trigger pull and no kin to humanity
Waiting for the next mass act is our new sanity
Awaken, therefore from the exit wound of rest filled slumber
Albeit almost four scores from the start of the deadly fascist plunder
Reach beyond the length of your brow
Begin again weaving the yarn of a conscience plow soldier without fear of plight for night comes nevertheless for all in sight.
Awaken, now beyond your naive comfort station
For weaving the torn fabric has been the clarion call of our nation
Bad ideas outlast those when attached less we forget to weave the fabric back