The faintest of breezes,
brushing around objects;
determined not to be deterred,
Not yet strong enough,
to pick up its own weight;
though leaves feel it and some are fell;
an ear is gained, the push begins.
Creeping low baritones rumble,
pattern of its steps distinguished,
impossible to extinguish,
cause you who oppose don`t weigh enough;
Like those echoes once divide,
clearly repeat "NO Retreat" - NONE!
crust and gale truths that tell themselves,
in cycles and numbers that live no lie...
like tornadoes that re-arrange,
your revolved resolutions
realities of the sixties,
AIN`T no actuality NOW
so instead of "keeping real",
lets try to keep it ACTUAL...
or at the least,