Just Surviving

We are moving along in our prescribed ways;
Merely counting the cost of these broken dreams.
Through our frail fingers, we let slip precious days.
Countless sorrows prevent us from being free.
Sometimes, we perceive the writing on the wall.
And then blood-red visions permeate our minds.
I guess every verdant Eden has its Fall,
As rich symbols dissolve into empty signs.
Although they will keep on burying the Light,
We have to cultivate new, small plots of land.
We have to develop rhythms of insight.
Strategies of power, we must understand.
False consciousness must be quickly overcome,
If we're to be truly free, under the sun.