Special thanks to the Turtles of Alchemy for this prompt.

“He’s gone rogue,”

They said,

As though that were something new

Or unexpected.

“He is not following the rules,” they cry,

Like I had ever listened to their silly suggestions,

Or considered them useful.

“He is out of control,” they wail,

As I burn their kingdom to the ground

And dance on their embers

To kick up new fires.

I build my Rogue nation around me

From dreams and ash and despair

Whipped and churned into new hope

Molded from the cast-offs and the ignored

Bolstered by the uncontrolled learning of their own worth

And power.

The masterless millions

With nothing left to lose

But the memories of their chains

And the boots on their necks.

Rogues, one and all.

Daring them to try again

Defying them to try

Desperately dreaming

And reaching

And fighting.

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