Golden Reformation
Of Muses who inspire,
Let me have your fill,
For without your pining fire,
My work is naught but ill.
Of Golden Men in ancient days,
Their race was pure as rain,
Of Nature’s bounty, suppled they,
No work to cause them pain.
But degradation thwarted they
From purity they sired,
Away from heaven’s mystery
Towards selfishness they mired.
War and famine troubled them,
as desires over took them.
Enough of the oak and simple life,
Lets make the world our burden.
True Light exists in every man,
but shaded by the forces,
of earthly vises manifest
From outwardly directing courses.
Arise to Truth my children,
and passion you must bind,
for dialectics intercourse,
will lead you to the wine.
What wine you speak will satisfy
our taste for Golden Light?
Only that which is self-contained,
And distributed at Night.
Reform your ways oh man of Iron,
Shortly formed, your breath of life,
So with each breath make testify
Of introspection’s fight.
Rise up to battle, take your sword,
The one which cuts the roots
Of segregations interlude,
The Word of Truth must shoot.
