Inside my eyes
is the echo of battle
of brother and friend
standing together as one

Outside my eyes
is the wounded warrior
of brother and friend
knowing not their enemy

Rise UP and Remember
Speak to your Hearts

Of conquest is none satisfied
of Bloodshed is none redeemed
of squabble it is fruitless
of territory it is laid waste
of flesh it is terminal
of endings it is sure
of losses there are many
of power it is weightless
of self rightness it is isolated
of possessions they do crumble
of the war outside, it is utter vanity

All of which serve to distract us
from the true hand that moves against us.

And who can tell you of that hand
Which you already know so well?

Inside is our Battle Ground
Inside is our War
Inside is our enemy

There he hides amidst ritual and dogma and custom and domestication
There he tears at our soul
Rips at our Spirit
and Blames you for your Lack!

Inside is our Redemption
Inside is our Domain
Inside is our Victory and OUR world.

Secret agents are placed before our outside eyes
as the mastermind rests inside.

Hear the words of the others who would chain you
Hear the words of the men who would bind you
Hear the words of those who teach fear
Hear the words of those who set themselves above you.

Listen again to Your Own self and know
Not ONE is greater then you, Son of my Father!
Not one who speaks against you
acts against you
wars against you
and disables you
is from YOU.

Listen yet again at what you have told yourself… and know
It is NOT your voice which speaks against you
it is NOT your voice that acts against you
it is NOT your voice that wars and disables you.

You who look into the mirror
and curse the man
harbor the thief in your very own Body!

Inside is our enemies true mystical compound
Filling our heads with lies
and deception and propaganda!

Inside is our Warrior Soul
The part which Cannot Die
The part which Cannot lose
The part which Cannot be an others

Look to the man who would bring down his own brother
and you will see one who is no longer man

All men are the Chieftains of their Inheritance
and None are dealt lack.

No man wishes for what is another mans,
he wishes for what is his OWN!
It is not the spirit of a man to covet it all,
even what they do not naturally want.

That is as another who speaks to them
from the battlefield inside which they have
surrendered to.

That is the spirit of his alter-Muse,
his alter-Passion given from another.

For who in truth can say what you should have?
When you already have dominion of yourself?

The speaker of such is a liar,
The teller of such tales is a farce.

My Brothers know
that I am that I am
and none of them desire my change.

My brothers know
that I am with them all
inside our Armies camp with them.

He who with judgement discerns not these things
judges again himself alone,
and departs to his enemies camp.

But he who with ears does hear himself
will find his family beside him.

Ryan o0o


Drawing “The Brothers Ranney” ©2003 by Chris Garofalo – used with permission

Copyright © 2013
Ryan Ranney – Ranney Studios
All Rights Reserved