Mighty roar of the crowd
within and without.
Uttering unspeakable words.
Speaking the impossible,
making do with all things.
Mountains shall fall,
empires will yet totter.
And on the crowd surges forth.
Wants are many, needs go unfulfilled,
a holy thing in its almighty surge.
Once more the crowd yells,
a white noise becoming all things.
Only the deaf shall go blind.
The few shall go hungry.
The crowd continues to shout.
Comments
Post a Comment