"I would rather die standing than live on my knees" - Stephane Charbonnier
You are going to ask: where are the wildflowers gliding into your glades and gardens? What of your lovely waterfalls filled with poppies and geraniums? Why do you not sing of Bramabella, your Carolinian Eden?
I will tell you.
For yesterday, barbarians with guns murdered free men and women. The streets of Paris, that grand and glorious Polis, ran red with the blood of Martyrs. Martyrs for freedom For self-expression For the holy tenets of western civilization.
And while the enraged savages shouted "God is great!" The Gods wept. And when they proclaimed "The Prophet has been avenged" The Prophets shook their head in shame for being named in such barbarity, such savagery, such inhumanity.
Yet, we must not now cower in fear and submission to this new tyranny, this expanding Fascism masquerading as Religion. We must resist this to the end: following the iron will of Churchill, while rejecting those of Chamberlain.
So now, when you ask me why my Poetry does not sing of Wilkes County's boundless Beauty in soaring, sonorous similes I can only point Eastward, towards the wayward Sea and shout: Go and see the blood in the streets! Go and see the blood in the streets! Go and see the blood in the streets!