A Visitor From The Past. A passionate poem written by patriotic poet Thelen Paulk. Distributed as far back as the 80’s and 90’s, this poem describes the metaphoric vision of a midnight visitor. The visitor, a Colonial Minuteman, takes us on a journey from bondage to freedom, back into bondage again. A libertarian warning for all freedom loving Americans.
By Thelen Paulk
I had a dream the other night, I didn’t understand.
A figure walking through the mist, with flintlock in his hand.
His clothes were torn and dirty, as he stood there by my bed
He took off his three-cornered, and speaking low he said:
“We fought a revolution to secure our liberty.
We wrote the Constitution, as a shield from tyranny.
For future generations, this legacy we gave,
In this the land of the free, and the home of the brave.”
“The freedom we secured for you, we hoped you’d always keep,
But tyrants labored endlessly while your parents slept,
Your freedom gone, your courage lost, you’re no more than a slave,
In this the land of the free, and the home of the brave.”
“You buy permits to travel, and permits to own a gun,
Permits to start a business, or build a place for one.
On land you believe you own, you pay a yearly rent.
Although you have no voice in how the money’s spent.”
“Your children must attend a school that doesn’t educate.
Your Christian values can’t be taught, according to the State.
You read about the current news, in a regulated press.
You pay a tax you do not owe, to please the IRS.”
“Your money is no longer made of Silver or of Gold.
You trade your wealth for paper, so your life can be controlled.
You pay for crimes that make our nation, turn from God in shame.
You’ve taken Satan’s number, as you traded in your name.”
You’ve given government control of those who do you harm,
So they can padlock churches and steal the family farm.
And keep our country deep in debt, put men of God in jail,
Harass your fellow countrymen, while corrupted courts prevail.”
“Your public servants don’t uphold the solemn oath they’ve sworn.
Your daughters visit doctors, so their children won’t be born.
Your leaders ship artillery, and guns to foreign shores,
And send your sons to slaughter, fighting other people’s wars.”
“Can you regain the freedom for which we fought and died?
Or don’t you have the courage, or the faith to stand with pride?
Are there no more values for which you’ll fight to save?
Or do you wish your children to live in fear and be a slave?”
People of the Republic, arise and take a stand!
Defend the Constitution, the Supreme law of the land!
Preserve our Great Republic, and God-Given Right!
And pray to God to keep the torch of Freedom burning bright!”
As I awoke he vanished, in the mist from whence he came.
His words were true, we are not Free, we have ourselves to blame.
For even now as tyrants, trample each God-Given Right,
We only watch and tremble, too afraid to stand and fight.
If he stands by your bedside, in a dream, while you sleep,
And wonders what remains of our Rights he fought to keep,
What would be your answer, if he called out from the grave:
“Is this still the land of the free and the home of the brave?”
