• A spark of fire struggles against darkness
    To light a single page. A thin, bent wrist
    Rests over words exposing the heartless.
    His blood splatters! A name is crossed off a list.
    His page is incinerated in black mist,
    While a breathless room is left frozen in time.
    An old man dies with a pen clutched in his fist,
    And so I ask you to cross the thin line.
    Brothers, we must fight for the sake of mankind.
    Brothers, we are strong enough to tear the wool
    Covering our eyes so we can see the sun shine.
    Let our battered, broken spirits be whole.
    Our tired hands will fight for the solution.
    So, in unison we cry, "Revolution."