glass towers above the clouds
cowering in artificial sunlight
preaching of our wickedness in the light of day
when the sky turns red
the streets will too
they call us monsters
we show them just how monstrous we can be
they call us demons
we show them what hellfire tastes like
they call us dissidents
we show them revolution
It is not a simple task
to cast down the mighty. It
is not the work of a week,
or a month, or a year. But
time is a resource we have
in spades. Time and fear and the
shadows they consigned us to
there will come a day that we walk in the light
there will come a day that we sheath our claws
there will come a day that we build something new together
until that day, specters we remain
children of the night let loose
with fire
with shadow
with ageless fury
governments and corporations are made of people
people can bleed
Words From Nora Blake 