| There I burn in my own lights fuelled with flags torn out
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| Of books, and histories of marching together…
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| United with heroes, we were the rage, the fire
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| But I was given a different destiny — knotted in closer despair
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| Calling to heroes do you have to speak that way all the time?
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| Tales told by idiots in paperbacks; |
| a play of forms
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| To spite my fabulous need to fight and live
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| We exchange words, coins, movements — paralysed in loops
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| Of care that we hoped could knot a world still
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| Sere words, toothless, ruined now, bulldozed into brimming pits
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| — who has used them how? |
| Grammar book that lies wasted:
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| Conflux of voices rising to meet, and fall
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| Empty, divided, other…
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| Clutching at sleeves the wordless man exposes his failure:
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| Smiling, he hurls a wine glass, describing his sadness twisted
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| Into mere form: shattered in a glass, he’s changed…
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| Now dare he seize the life before him and discompound it in
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| Sulphurous confusion and give it to the air?
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| He’s rushing to find where there’s a word of liquid syntax
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| — signs let slip in a flash: «clothes of chaos are my rage !»
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| He shrieks in tatters, hunting the eye of his own storm
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| We were born to serve you all our bloody lives
|
| Labouring tongues we give rise to soft lies:
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| Disguised metaphors that keep us in a vast inverted stillness
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| Twice edged with fear
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| Twilight signs decompose us
|
| High in offices we stared into the turning wheel of cities
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| Dense and ravelled close yet separate: planned to kill all encounter
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| Intricate we saw your state at work its shapes
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| Abstracted from all human intent. |
| With our history’s fire
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| We shall harrow your signs
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| Now is the time to begin to go forward — advance from despair
|
| The darkness of solitary men — who are chained in a market they
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| Cannot control — in the name of a freedom that hangs like a pall
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| On our cities. |
| And their towers of silence we shall destroy
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| Now is the time to begin to determine directions, refuse to admit
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| The existence of destiny’s rule. |
| We shall seize from all heroes and
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| Merchants our labour, our lives, and our practice of history: this
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| Our choice, defines the truth of all that we do
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| Seize on the words that oppose us with alien force; |
| they’re enslaved
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| By the power of capital’s kings who reduce them to coinage and
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| Hollow exchange in the struggle to hold us, they’re bitterly
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| Outlasting… Time to sweep them down from power
|
| — deeds renew words
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| Dare to take sides in the fight for freedom that is common cause
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| Let us all be as strong and as resolute. |
| We’re in the midst of
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| A universe turning in turmoil; |
| of classes and armies of thought
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| Making war — their contradictions clash and echo through time |