Monday, September 15, 2008

THE RUMBLINGS BEGIN




The ISA sits
On the steep rock ready to fall
Holding it few remaining strings
Only a better of time
It will fall

The dark clouds try
Shading the curse of the light
And the wind getting angry
The soft breeze begin to blow

The dark clouds gather
Feverishly protecting ISA
Knowing it will fall any time
The final battle must be fought
Precariously shifting away

The corrupted leaders
Walking towards its haven
They don’t know yet
The timing is just perfect

The shifting gears
Slowly without notice
When the corrupted leaders walk in
The wind sings its final breezy tune

At the far corner
The pitying souls in custody
Broken planks and leaking roofs
Let them suffer in heat and rain
For their belief they suffer in silent
For the truth will let them free

In the night
The rumblings begin
ISA wakes up in fear
As it tilts precariously towards its doom
Deep in the valley of discarded demons
Burning it into pieces
For ISA will not rise up again

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