Quiet Revolution

There is something darker, 

clinging to my chest,

the Emerald in my eyes is my heart.

I run sleek through the night, 

and I sneak past all the windows, 

where the red light of streetlamps,

can't touch me, no.

We make graffiti, we are guerilla gardeners,

we are posting quiet signs on your roadways, 

in your mailbox is my letter.

We are the quiet revolutionaries 

that sneak out to make life out of death, 

on the blackest nights.

I will save this human race, or live trying.