The spectre of strife looms during the dark winter of the eleventh hour,
Empires final stand, humanity’s stance in defense of dignity,
At home and abroad, through the streets and in the countryside,
Fists are raised in defiance against the goons unleashed by tyrants,
Movements are born out of resistance, new leaders rise, new ideas emerge,
United in spirit, connected theough commonality,
synchronized through swarm intelligence,
Committed to long promised freedoms and rights, denied and violated by a monstrous master,
Indefatigable struggle whose thirst can only be quenched with liberation,
For which the meek rush towards death rather than die on their knees in servitude and surrender.
History faces a crossroad, circumstances akin to a powder keg, tension gripps the ether,
Images and stories circulate, neighborhoods and countries under siege,
irony of impunity and outrage, of military force in the name of democracy,
Some are fooled, others contribute, while the masses see the writing on the wall,
Separated in ranks by lines whose boundaries become more and more clear with the passage of time,
With the evolution of the dialectic between Empire and the Multitude, between masters and the wretched of the Earth,
One fights with he most advanced of armaments, the other with sticks, stones, and a pronounced voice,
One is motivated by ambitions and cynicism, the other by love and fraternity,
And certainly love covers and abundance of sins!