insight to riot

this is a poem meant to be screamed from the back of a crowded room or on the busy streets my heart beats like a hammer on an anvil there is no man in command of this anthill once upon a time i used to be a mystic but now I'm realistic feet upon the ground head held high I don't need your respect I will tell you why These are the words that the giant speaks from the top of its lungs at the highest mountaion peaks my heart beats like a hammer on an anvil thunder is the sound that pulls away the mantle So speak of the clounds and the winds and the gusts as I'm brushing back the dust from each apostle sandal