4) Book On The Mountain

Though We The People try to struggle up
The mount of mud,
We leave an ugly trail behind
Of tears, of sweat, of blood.
We know that wrongs by those elected
Are done both day and night.
To keep themselves empowered, they seek
To kill Our every Right.
And now Our plight is so much worse
By giving them the time of day.
They play upon Our fears, that in their power
They may stay.
We keep crawling, but then stop;
Glancing up- a silent sound.
There stands a figure, bowed and bent
Waiting, higher on the mound.
A weathered face, a broken back
Shrouded in a dark, grey cloak.
From cracked, ne’er- used lips
Comes his first, and last, great croak.
‘Use it well! I’ve gathered all I could
From our nation’s past!’
From the black recesses of that cloak he pulls
A volume vast.
A tome of dark secrets, he thrusts into my hands
The needs of One great Nation
Our determination now demands.
Right and left, my compatriots give a firm nod
Back down upon the plains We stand,
Upon the now grey sod.
The sacred knowledge stored I place
Upon the frozen ground.
Together We grasp the volume’s clasp
One Nation ceases every sound.
Far off but growing louder,
Powers That Be are shouting ‘NO!’
‘The time is now, my friends!
Unclasp the clasp! Come on! LET’S GO!!’
‘NOW!!’ We shout together.
The tome’s inner light bursts forth.
In every direction it flows,
West and east, then south and north.
As our forefathers fought for their rights,
From sea to shining sea,
Our country now lies in our hands-
We will again be free!