Militant mastermind for whom the bell tolls
justice begs to differ, as truth unfolds.
I, who am not of large voice do speak,
in search of the truth,
am I strong, or am I weak?

There is danger in treading on such thin ice
so leap to the rocks when waters aren't nice.
stay toward the edge when rapids are near
go toward the beach where there is no fear.
But as we fear, we grow
without fear, we never know,
that which our heart has tried to tell us,
is it for more, for less, for joy,
for success?

Tremulous master
controller of my senses
give to me the wisdom of the ages.
To tread these waters without rapids
to grow strong
and speak from the masses.

One voice, that which I hear,
is it yours?
is it mine?
who whispers in my ear?
Or is it that of a stranger
I've known once before,
who,s voice I recognize
but can not be sure.

Rapture beckons from within my soul
but the chains are pulling me back
toward the shore.
The ropes which have me tied
to a wandering ship,
are pulling me out
into the open rip.
Tread on the water, sail with the wind,
trust me darlin,
throw caution to the wind.

But the chains that have me
locked up and bound,
are keeping me prisoner
trying not to be found.
That which from yet another place,
is dancing in the monnlight
tempting me out to fate.

Oh so inviting
temptation is strong,
I've tasted the rapture, the sweet love song.
Just for a while
I'll dance in the wind,
then I'll go back to my militant friend,
and dream of the waters
where love did tread,
if only in my dreams
on my pillow in my head.