They Twist, They Turn

The march of reason sounds across the land;
The knees of tyrants tremble where they stand.
The steady foot of logic does not quit;
The tyrants twist in fear at sight of it.

They twist, they turn, they half avert their eyes,
But still it comes—the naming of their lies!
Their ears they cover, but they can’t shut out
The damning words that strike them all about:

“The tyrant soul is evil at its source—
A selfless self that hates its mental course.
He’s never tried to grasp the things that are,
Nor sought productive purpose as his star.

“His life he hates, in being hates to be,
For he’s a flee-er of reality—
A flee-er fearing independent thought,
Who now knows he’s the coward he has wrought.”

Then march, O Reason, march across the land,
Make all the tyrants tremble where they stand!
Their days are numbered, ready now for dust!
And Truth will triumph with the good and just!

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