From in the midst of storms and when the wind blows,
Gone are all remnants of salvation
And forgotten are the doubts and the hurts.
The walls crushing with so much burden
Will justify destroying every speck that dares arise-
That dares to display an audacity
From the roots of insignificance.
Will the flutters into skyward places offer salvation-
Destroying with intent the spectre of annihilation?
Just as change is a revelation
And just as the expression of the substance of inner will,
Usurps power structures of universal domination-
When the fallout from the height fantastic becomes old,
The bloodline; is that which is then overtaken
By beggars and the objections flung outwards-
Start to become valid masterpieces of resistance.
Will the airs of chaos grow calmer?
And will the fires of conflict finally admit surrender?