Ice

Fractals form a frozen cage
Binding those below with rage
Fear, grief, terror permeate
The common thought: “When will we be Great?”

“Was this not a sanctuary,
Welcoming the weary and wary?
In seeking self, we alienate,
All to achieve an unknown Great.”

At the surface, treated as Tartars,
Fatigued fighters transform to martyrs.
Far below, the frightened wait
The speakers blare, “Now we are Great!”

Per contra, through the flood of din,
A truth is spread: “The Ice is thin!”
The populace once confined to fate
Soaring to reclaim what is Great.

Once at the apex, a cry resounds
The masses see that cracks abound.
They fight as one, the Ice abates
A small step as we fight to be Great.