... it’s a hard, hard waking when the red pill goes down 

It's almost difficult to describe the point at which I find myself at this time in my life. I've transformed from that innocent but ignorant kid of the 60s and 70s ... past the blinded years of ladder-climbing careerism that college so well prepared me for in the 80s, 90s and 00s ... into this guy who you'd rightly expect to yell at the neighbor kids to get off his damn lawn ... only not quite that way.

I've become softer, yet firmer:

Softer in the heart and soul for family and country, for service and sacrifice, for values and God.

I've become firmer on the concepts of right and wrong, good and evil, love and hate.

I've become both more and less tolerant:

I'm more tolerant than my younger self in terms of patience for those with less experience, less wisdom, less world experience.

But I've become less tolerant of those who will tell you exactly who they are and expect you to accept them despite their hatred of virtually everything you stand for.

I've become more accepting of those who are willing to engage in an open discussion founded in good will and mutual understanding.

I've become less accepting of those who choose to use their keyboards in their arrogance and deluded self-righteousness to demean or diminish those with whom they disagree.

And that brings us to this piece of creativity. 

This piece flowed almost effortlessly out of a written piece entitled "Awakening in the Twilight" in which I struggle with the pain and confusion of awakening into the reality that one of the most painful things adults may face in life is learning that the world isn't the way we thought it was. It's that self-deception based on constructed illusions from which we must awaken to have any shot at true freedom. That's what this red-pill process is about for me. And the soul-level creativity it has inspired at this point in my life has left me with virtually no options other than to write, create, share, pray, work, and love.

Enjoy ... or don't.

Share ... or criticize.

It doesn't really make a difference to me as long as it makes you think.

Red Pill Morning

[instrumental intro]

[Verse 1 – low, hushed, almost spoken] 

Sixty-three winters carved in my face 

I woke in the wreckage of promises made 

The TV still lied like it did in ’69 

But the splinter by splinter I opened my eyes 

Saw the innocent bleeding on altars of gold 

Saw the children for sale while the nation grew cold 

Big Pharma and princes in boardrooms of night 

Turned every heartbeat to profit and pride 

[Verse 2 – voice cracks, pedal steel cries] 

I grieved for the country I swore was still good 

For the flag on the porch and the old neighborhood 

For the lies I believed when they sent boys to war 

For the silence I kept when they opened the door 

To darkness dressed up as progress and choice 

I carried that weight in the hush of my voice 

[Chorus – soft, aching 

Lord, it’s a hard, hard waking 

When the red pill goes down 

And the blue dream is breaking 

But I won’t close my eyes again 

I won’t close my eyes again 

[Verse 3 – tempo lifts slightly, light creeps in] 

Then something like fire came out of the pain 

A pen in my hand and a sword for my shame 

I started to write what the Spirit laid bare 

The evil that hides and the freedom still there 

56 names in a hot summer room 

Who lit a small beacon against centuries of gloom 

Gave us a republic, if only we can keep 

The covenant written in blood we still weep 

[instrumental interlude]

[Verse 4 – drums enter, organ swells] 

So I rise before dawn with the lamp trimmed and bright 

I name every demon, I call out the night 

But I also remember the farmers who stood 

The women, the dreamers, the ones who spilled blood 

So every child yet unborn can walk free 

That’s the America still living in me 

[Final Chorus – full band, major lift, voices join] 

Yeah, it’s a hard, hard waking 

When the red pill goes down 

But the morning is breaking 

And the light’s coming ‘round 

I will not close my eyes again 

I will not close my eyes again 

I’ll keep that old beacon burning 

Till the King comes or the republic stands 

Red pill morning 

Red pill morning 

I’m wide awake and I’m still holding Your hand 

[Outro – gentle, repeating under fading steel guitar] 

Wide awake… still holding Your hand… 

Wide awake… till the republic stands… 

[instrumental outro]

This is original work is produced by AK Darvinson with a combination of observation, critical thinking, insight, heart, compassion, passion, creativity, and technology. All rights are reserved. Free sharing is encouraged. Commercial use via license only.