I never leave my hill unless I have a graver need than to Listen to the winds for them to tell me what to be. But lately I’ve been worried For my nation and my mind— The winds, they seem to whisper things the sun reveals are lies. I simply don’t know what to believe—and at my age, that’s no good! So I’ll prance through the puddles in the field on my walk And pray to guides as I gaze at swamp wood. In truth, it’s just, I cannot trust when records don’t align. I’ll have to ask my guides how one interprets troubling times. I’ve never felt a fear this false, a patronizing paralysis. When is it that we will revolt: release our own resistance? Until then I know I must go forward on my own. Who else can protect, or indeed, redirect, the fools looking up at the throne? If I’m to stay atop my hill until the end of time, I simply must eradicate the frothing spew of lies. It can’t go on, this age is done, from leaders to the rebels-- We, the people, cannot accept the acts of cheating devils! No matter your lies, for the gods, they prize loyalty to the truth above all. I don’t mean to tattle but I’ve a spell that’ll draw the baffled to a battle call! Today I embrace a clever plan to expose and remove the corruption. I ask upon my honored guides to aid in truth’s eruption: Oh, mighty sky-- Mighty sun and all the mighty stars Release your mighty majesty upon these flighty farts. The people demand its powerful: Accountable Transparent And Kind. The people drown in simple pleasures Unless we shock them into line. Honorable sky, fall upon us; flood light into each crevice. Once the truth has been set aloose each moment then is precious. Thank you, sun Thank you, stars Thank you for your guidance Thank you for eternal peace in defending all the silenced.
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