The voiceless one


The march of relentless soldiers, as if to war, I can hear,
The home of paradise filled with tears.
Cries and wails of the trampled upon,
Yet the march of the relentless one goes on.

Listen to our voices, free us from these chains,
Songs and books written to share our pain.
Our pleas become a melody to the beat of persecution,
"March, March, March on," they say, dancing on.

The rule of law, now impudent and cold,
As the young ones wield guns and swords to their hold.
If we take their loved ones and rob them, maybe we will seem,
Our voicelessness may vanish if we disobey their command.

Oh, what blood fills the street of gold as it turns to sand,
The punishment for fighting back puts fear on man.
The street was filled with silence, placing faith in God,
He saves and delivers those who trust His name.

Arise, my people, let the voiceless one be heard,
In unity, we'll fight, reclaim our rightful bed.
A plea echoes, the mouth does not bite the hand that feeds,
Religion aside, with one strength, let's proceed.

Beneath the shadowed skies, where hope and courage blend,
Our journey continues, and oppression shall not bend.
For in the unity of purpose, a flame forever burns,
A beacon for the voiceless, as a new dawn yearns.

https://poetree.ca/post/658a90199955ff3a21f1803b