There is a consciousness

That sleeps with one eye open

Watchful for power corrupted

And wielded as a hammer

On the heads of the dispossessed;

When it awakens in reaction

It opens it’s mouth to howl

In rage, in protest, in solidarity

And it rises slowly but surely

To march like Ents on Orthanc

Tearing down desperate despots

Leaving the new order to others;

It is you

It is me

It is the tide of the sea

Cone to wash away the rot

And bring the good we’ve forgot.