A Revolution.

Within the darkened shadows and beneath the hallowed halls it rose. It brewed, for years, for centuries, growing, smoldering, in vengeful fire. Waiting for the day when it would exact its revenge, when it would get its justice, when its wrongs would be righted. It stirred in the hearts of men, awakening their souls to its wonderful revenge. It lit a spark throughout the world, rising ever so slowly, it was a feeling, a burning passion for something more. The desire to resist, to create, to discover, it was the will for revolution, the lust for freedom, the craving for justice. Something magical, something...Powerful. What created this fiery spark? Was it years of oppression? Was it the taxation without representation? Or maybe, just maybe, it was something that was woven in us from the beginning of time. A fiber of our being, an actual part of us that yearns for freedom, a part of us that is willing to die for liberty. On a chilly December evening it was brought together, by sons, fathers, and grandfathers. This fire, this revenge, was united under one banner. The banner of liberty and justice for all, the banner of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Yet somehow as we churn threw our technology controlled world have we forgotten about that fire? Have we suppressed the memories of the 55 in iron pen? Generation after generation has not only repressed those memories, but we've abandoned everything that once fueled that fire. We've destroyed the passion that once united the people, the passion that brought men and women together, no matter the race or color, to birth the greatest nation that this world has ever known.