What is built today is destroyed tomorrow
One day's Joy is the next day's Sorrow
Falsehood the reins of the minds of the weak
While ignorance destroys the hearts of the meek
Skin beauty waxes in the glamour of the light
While true beauty perishes in the dark of night
Lost children try to fly upon wings of cloth
Our land a melting pot brimmed over with despair's froth
Upon society's lies
We feast our unblinking eyes
When we should such things despise
Truth is what we honestly need
A ray of light to reveal evil's seed
To shine light upon those who bleed
Heart's Blood lies thickly in the street
Trampled upon by hundreds of mindless feet
Has the suffering of the innocent become so cliché?
For those with open eyes, surely there must be a way
To reconcile our land with its precious children
To find Truth in our lives once again
To accept life's tragedy
So that we can see
How to break free
Of all this contemptible misery
So much we let slip through our numb shocked hands
So much we could do to restore justice to this world's lands
And yet each day we stand coldly by
And when people suicide we wonder why
"How could this happen, here of all places?"
Why don't you look around and see the faces,
Of all those you do not know,
Of the pain their complexions show,
And try to tell me why they feel what they do?
You can't, can you?
And yet still you wonder why
In this land of bombs bursting in the sky
Children needlessly die
They fall in the streets with blood-stained souls
They fall in their homes with blood-stained hands
They fall in silent places with blood-stained minds
It is because of the Silence
Masses standing around
Numb hands letting life slip to the ground
Desensitized eyes turning away
Voiceless specters of people lying to themselves each day,
Telling themselves that everything is okay
We are, all of us, Guilty in some way.
Can you hear them trying?
They are reaching out for your hand and grasping nothing.
Can you hear them crying?
They call out for mercy and the light of Hope.
Can you hear them lying?
They say it's the last time, that they can stop.
Can you hear them dying?
Lives punctuated by bullets in the city streets.
Perhaps you will still wonder why
Or perhaps you will see, and the truth deny
Or perhaps you will perceive the loss of it all and start to cry