Break out of your slumber.
Cease to dither in your wallowing sludge,
Where you lie so ignorant and apathetic.
Down is where your eyes are, forever raking dust, fallacy,
And coat-tails of more cunning men.
Your hair is pulled by an invisible hand,
Its fingers caressing your scalp, exhorting submission.
Your knees bend and creak and tremble, unused to vigor and zeal.
Your back is hunched.
It extolls the unceasing weight hunkering upon it.
Yet hunkering is not enough, so it simmers around you.
Cocoons you. Digests you. (Almost) lovingly dissolves you.
You remember to keep it there. Keep it calm.
You remember to keep it fed.
You remember not to anger it.
But do you not hear?
A call to arms?
A caged bird?
A whisper on the wind?
A rising tide?
Look within the bones that reside in your heart.
Every sliver. Every muscle. Every thought.
And now cease your sloth, cease your sentiment,
Cease your aggrandizing doom.
Seize. Round up every fiber.
Strive. Muster up the fire.
Awaken from your slumber.
For through the terror,
The light will cut,
And will spill through your corporeal being,
Illuminating the tears of joy and fear that cascade down your cheeks.
Your head no longer bowed, no longer bent,
But hurled back, lips curled into an unearthly howl.
And you will see that you are merely a broken fragment,
A prideful piece separated from the breathing core,
Blessed and doomed to glimpses and never the whole.
You will have awakened from your slumber.
And when they ask what you are,
You will say you are