Steps Of St. Johns

All that we got and all that we’ve ever had.
OURSELVES! OURSELVES!
We let us down again, all that we are and all that we could have been.
THERE’S NO! THERE’S NO!
There’s no comparison and yet we sit upon the edge of a dream and a broken
promise, living lives designed to end in early graves.
HOW LONG? HOW LONG?
Until we abandon them?
How many go unheard?
How many broken words have broken these lives?
Left looking in from the outside you call this progress?
L call it submission folded hands reveal a second face
this tattered complexion, a perfect portrait of today from different
perspectives we’re all still fighting from our knees.
HAND IN HAND!
we’ll end it, or end each other 'til we see
THIS EPIDEMIC IS OUR SEED.
We have given them a face, we have given them a name, we have given them a
place, we have dropped out of this race, against a silent army, facing a new
beginning these bayonettes are memories never to be relived again,
trade in this iron fist for a helping hand you call this treason,
i call it allegiance.
TO AN IDEAL, not a system.
TO A VISION of redemption.
All in time, we’re seeing through the mirage, all in time.