It is time again for miracles.
Let us declare our holy desperation to the gods,
And let us scale the crumbling walls
And shout our disdain at the state of things.
This world is made of corrugated iron
And half-remembered visions of freedom,
Glimpsed once and chased forever more.
We will cast down the idols of mediocrity
And leave only silence in their stead,
A silence pregnant with the possibility
That we were meant to be here,
Meant to love and laugh and destroy
That which condemns joy and speaks
Only of gain and loss and dull efficiency.
We will dream so loudly that we can hear each other
Over the crash and clatter of complacency.
We will live, once and forever more.
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