my heart is arisen with the knowledge
that this anger we kindle can strike a blow
directly to the surface of the sun
if we wish it to, if we will it so.
the raw power we hold, this generation;
we will set fire and fury
onto the very ground we stand on,
we will dance atop the flames hand in hand
and laugh as we emerge from the ashes.
we are phoenices clothed in gold and red –
we are entire empires in one body.
we accept death as a brother
but fight to bring heaven and earth together
for another if we deem it fit.
we are gentle, tender, fragile,
we know pain and anguish
and we wear the horrors on our cheeks
as we march to battle.
we are soldiers of truth and justice;
all calloused hands and a weaponry of scars,
know that we do not fear the hurt.
you have every right to fear us,
we still stare the reaper in the eyes,
smile our crooked smiles
and sing our song of victory;
we do not cower before it's sickle
for we raise hell with our very own.
this bellowing voice we hold will never tire,
never quiver before the face of oppression.
we will shout and scream and holler
until we are heard, we will never be silenced.
and to you who is reading this,
you cannot hold us back –
kill us once,
and we will rise
a thousand times.
so go ahead,
add fuel to the furnace of my young anger.
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