There breathes a voice of harmony on the horizon.
It calls to the lonely few,
The ones who understand the light.
It whispers to the winds,
Who carry the message home.
It tells of a sacred truth,
The truth to breach the mask's defenses,
The truth so simple it's overlooked.

There lies a teardrop of calm in the raging sea.
It reaches out to the ravaging hate,
The war that ignores the tranquility.
It screams to the heavens,
Who push the cries back to the ground.
It floats toward other tears,
The tears to illuminate the truth,
The tears so silent they go unseen.

There stands a shadow of wisdom among the shifting throng.
He listens to the silent tears,
The ones who know what it's like.
He sings to the world,
Who ignore the words of truth.
He believes in an ancient light,
The light to show the way,
The light so real it's imaginary.

There sits the prey of hatred in the pouring rain.
She waits for the sweet release,
The only candle to light her way.
She pleads with the emptiness,
Who gives nothing to comfort her.
She cries away her silent fears,
The fears that haunt her dreams,
The fears so inhuman they can't be real.

It is real.

And the message is quite simple,
Written across the skies,
Etched into our eyes.
Silently it cries: