Ten Million Rebels

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I'm defended to death,
With two options left,
And they're both just the dead one.
I'm a twelve-handed clock,
With friends in the fog, and I'm
Sure they all know I'm the dead one

Because love, like ten million rebels,
Is cruel, in sandy memorials,
Where black's the uniform
Of what we all die for, and I
See, Just what we all die for,

And truth, unlike these
Ten million rebels,
Buried inside the sky
The truth, of how it did.

And love, like the ten million rebels,
Is lost again, is drowned again
In dirt.

Minority, this black moiety,
(Ten MILLION rebels)
Beneath the invisible X,
Forgets truthfully the irony
And digs for the addiction to sense.

I'm above, and I'm inside, and I know,
Electric frost and fiery thoughts,
Gods from machine and roads through the core,
Where is the true rebellion,
But insanity.
 

Author's Note

Please ignore any references.