the Drums

 

Quicksilver thoughts un-needed
Mindful resistance unwarrented

  Find yourself dumbfounded
By the beating of the Drums

Frantic beats so blinding
Rhythms surely binding
The sightless keen on finding
The beating of the Drums

A ragged pulse is forming
And there is no time for mourning
For there surely was no warning
of the nature of the music
With the beating of the Drums

The beastial tempo quickening
Churning bodies so sickening
Fog of confusion thickening
a brazen added Lyric
With the beating of the Drums

the wicked ritual
the steaming hateful heat
will surely reach the city streets

And we will dance, and live the Beat,
and sing along, as the world succumbs

To the beating,
  of the Drums.