Resistance is Futile

He
Wanted to aim high, tell his story
Reluctant to share, his fall from glory.
People so preoccupied, where to start
Pondering
He just began.
His plan.
See,
He was just an average brother.
No one knew. Part of the mainstream.
Working diligently, taking care of his family.
He had to wrestle everyday between two states.
Average, non-threatening yes sir, sure I will get it done.
To how to navigate the elements so that revolution could be won.
He studied.
Literature of the ancients.
By candlelight.
Throughout the night.
Filling his memory bank
With plans, strategies and hindsight.
Piecing together philosophies and
Scientific hypotheses.
A walking encyclopedia of modern plots.
Yet

He remained calm and did his works.

Not underground,
Above ground,  he trained and schooled
Those who would listen
His aim, a mission
To offer his intelligence to the few
That would move forward and transition.
Questioned
He answered their inquisitions.
Yet, he often thought
One day for sure
His students,  they would get it.
Of course, this is not too much
They will appreciate this train of thought.
As he learned
He absorbed
Passed it on
His logic and quick decision
On point, with precision.
Yet
At times, he felt the weight
Although he was accustomed to his path
Doubt sank in
As he observed, the chosen few
Didn't move.
His lessons were not adhered to
Perhaps he was misunderstood
He
Could not fathom
All his hard work
Would end in futility
He remained calm
Knowing he had to act swiftly
Arranging and organizing
He rose to the challenge
Thinking his students would be able to walk on their own
Leadership is not necessarily homegrown
Finding that his teaching what he had learned
Were not enough
If his actions were not louder
Than his words
At the forefront
Of his congregants
Let us go forth
meet this monster with vigor and solidarity
He aimed high.
His lessons learned.
He shared his ideas
with those who would listen.
He rose to the forefront.
He had a mission.
The chosen few could not resist him.
©2012 Sharbi3