Rage! Rage against the silent steel gleam
of this machine, this system systematically destroying us.
We are young and virile and alive,
the machine is cold, and calloused and couldn’t care less.
It’s a trap triggered by tension wire pulled taut
against our necks as we struggle to breath, we need air
but the machine has choked oxygen into submission
and drowned the seven seas in dross so we swim in sludge.
Rage, against the audible drone of the silent missiles
that don’t miss, each picture perfect pinpoint strike punctures
and lives once whole are torn apart each day.
Speak only when spoken to and you will never be spoken to
because your words are fire and the machine is an ice cold killer.
So speak young warrior, rage, let you words fall like water.
Summon Poseidon, seize his trident to defeat this leviathan
We are not numbers on a page, written in black and white
nor are we the ignorant arrogance of the fathers before us.
We are a whole people. Men and women mighty in deed.
We rage, not fruitlessly but relentlessly against the night.
We will not go gently into the night, but grab darkness by the throat
crush his power and blind him with our brilliance.
We walk soft as ashes but our hearts are aflame. Rage!