Daniel

Revolution

It is a whisper in the nights decline
A word carried in the breeze
A voice inflamed with every cry
As we plant revolutions seed

Spoken on hushed lips
And within darkened rooms
But as it finally finds the light
And grows like a flower in the spring

So like a snowball on a hill
It gathers weight with every turn
Until it has grown far beyond
The whispers spoken in darkened rooms