Siblings of the Revelation

Are we not paper ghosts dancing with fire?
What insubordination have we rite too,
when such shadows as we pass at a glance?
What justice are we owed when our own fingers
do naught but rip the throats of innocents?
Such ravaged and woeful lemmings,
we chant our bellies to direness and poise,
when we ourselves deserve not even our breath.
Is not each moment a wonder of grace that,
not of cause of but in spite of,
has been cast as a line fishing for our salvation?
Hence let us burn for our woes,
plead for our passions,
ache for our doom
and let the strong Hand both gift and take us.
'Tis in such vast and honest humility,
that we children shall finally see in the light.
Having been raised of darkness
we enflame our souls to rage or sorrow
if ever we are truly seen.
Instead let us breech our cold hearts
and reach to clasp His extension
and become siblings of the revelation.