REVOLUTIONARY PRIEST
To freeze in the dead of night
To burn in a law divine
Deep in the crucible brine
The sorrow and the rage entwine
And coil and climb towards the light
The quill is poised above the page
Words like falling rain slake the thirst and dowse the flames
Cooling in the crucible and idea forms
A nugget of belief in the hearts of the poor
That maybe in the dawn's new light
They have a right to the law