Opinion - Wind and Fire: Difference between revisions

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(Created page with "'''Wind and fire''' ''Quote: Too many just want to grill, just want to game, just want to shop, keep the head down, don't make eye contact, just muddle through and hope they don't get spotted. Too many joined militias just to play dress up, drink beer, and shoot guns at the range, too many are terrified of PatCon and getting busted by glowies. There will be no 2A revolution, no governmental reset, no guillotines, and all those guns are wasted in the hands of big-talkin...")
 
m (Reverted edits by Rightof Genghiskhan (talk) to last revision by Francis Meyrick)
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'''Wind and fire'''
[[File:Wind and Fire.mp3|left]]
[[File:F38c91d0cc24be85.png|thumb]]
===Wind and fire===
 
{{Rquote|center|"Too many just want to grill, just want to game, just want to shop, keep the head down, don't make eye contact, just muddle through and hope they don't get spotted. Too many joined militias just to play dress up, drink beer, and shoot guns at the range, too many are terrified of PatCon and getting busted by glowies. There will be no 2A revolution, no governmental reset, no guillotines, and all those guns are wasted in the hands of big-talking sheep. America died not with a bang, or a whimper, but by being bled to death by its own comfortable consumerism.'|Dagnar Odinsson}}
 


''Quote:  Too many just want to grill, just want to game, just want to shop, keep the head down, don't make eye contact, just muddle through and hope they don't get spotted. Too many joined militias just to play dress up, drink beer, and shoot guns at the range, too many are terrified of PatCon and getting busted by glowies. There will be no 2A revolution, no governmental reset, no guillotines, and all those guns are wasted in the hands of big-talking sheep. America died not with a bang, or a whimper, but by being bled to death by its own comfortable consumerism.


Dagnar Odinsson
''


'''Wind and Fire'''
'''Wind and Fire'''
 
<poem>
In my mind, it's late, dark night
In my mind, it's late, dark night  
moon through window, steadily rising  
moon through window, steadily rising
musing thoughts, flickering light
musing thoughts, flickering light  
dim shadows, cold, chastising.  
dim shadows, cold, chastising.  


Log fire, warm, yet eerie
Log fire, warm, yet eerie  
as I wrestle with that query
as I wrestle with that query  
the one that haunts my waking dream
the one that haunts my waking dream  
undermines, our self esteem.
undermines, our self esteem.


What happened, to that one before
What happened, to that one before
Line 41: Line 43:
but the words, the heart, the will, I speak
but the words, the heart, the will, I speak
have been handed down, through wind and fire
have been handed down, through wind and fire
and ''mettle'', we must reacquire.
and ''mettle'', we must reacquire.    
</poem>
 
 
 
[[:Category:Francis "Moggy" Meyrick|F.M.]]


F.M.
🚁
🚁


[[:Category:Francis "Moggy" Meyrick|F.M.]]
[[Category:Opinion]]
[[Category:Opinion]]
[[Category:Francis "Moggy" Meyrick]]  
[[Category:Francis_"Moggy"_Meyrick]]
[[Category: FMM-Fascist-Spirituality]]
[[Category:FMM-Fascist-Spirituality]]

Latest revision as of 23:05, 26 February 2023

F38c91d0cc24be85.png

Wind and fire

"Too many just want to grill, just want to game, just want to shop, keep the head down, don't make eye contact, just muddle through and hope they don't get spotted. Too many joined militias just to play dress up, drink beer, and shoot guns at the range, too many are terrified of PatCon and getting busted by glowies. There will be no 2A revolution, no governmental reset, no guillotines, and all those guns are wasted in the hands of big-talking sheep. America died not with a bang, or a whimper, but by being bled to death by its own comfortable consumerism.'

—Dagnar Odinsson



Wind and Fire

In my mind, it's late, dark night
moon through window, steadily rising
musing thoughts, flickering light
dim shadows, cold, chastising.

Log fire, warm, yet eerie
as I wrestle with that query
the one that haunts my waking dream
undermines, our self esteem.

What happened, to that one before
caught in battle, alive in war
that man who fought, and really cared
the one who chanced it all, and dared?

He isn't dead, just somehow strapped
weirdly, weirdly, handicapped
he cannot bring his guns to bear
but you cannot sneer, that he doesn't care.

Well he sees, his ancestral lands
violated, marauding bands
sneering, mocking, alien rage
trying to burn, erase our page.

But we are written in this book
not in passing gobbledygook
we are inscribed with a flourishing pen
we stand tall, among all men.

I am nothing, just an old door's creak
but the words, the heart, the will, I speak
have been handed down, through wind and fire
and mettle, we must reacquire.


F.M.

🚁