REVOLUTIONARY PRIEST To freeze in the dead of night To burn in divine law Deep in the crucible brine The sorrow and the rage entwine And coil and climb towards the light The quill is poised above the page Words like falling rain slake the thirst and dowse the flames Cooling in the crucible and idea forms A nugget of belief in the hearts of the poor That maybe in the dawn's new light They have a right to the law
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