Crushed under an iron heel,

Chained by unfair laws,

Broken and beaten,

Hurt and betrayed

Left to die, in bleeding pieces,

As the whips of the masters beat above them.

With nothing but questions,

Nothing but fears,

The faceless clay statues work away,

Not daring to voice the two questions which define them.

"Who are we?"

"Where are we?"

A sea of wishing eyes,

Glimmer like candles in the night,

Their silhouettes shivering with cold,

Yet their hearts asking away, in their silence.

"Who are we?"

"Where are we?"

The breeze drifts past the landscape,

Softly singing a tune.

The statues rise their heads,

Listening to the faint whisper.

Someday you'll know who you are,

And the dawn of a new age will come upon you,

But the old customs shall crumble.

Someday you'll know where you are,

And new paths will be laid before you,

But old ones shall close.

Someday you'll be free of your curse,

And new dreams will rise within you,

But old ones shall fall.

The statues bow their heads in understanding,

As silence engulfs them again,

Everything's standing still like once before,

With only the song in their hearts playing inside.

Someday, is far away,

Yet after the day gives in to night,

And the bonfire is lit, people's whisperings all say,


Please make a comment. I would really appreciate to hear what you think about it. hmm... what else..... oh yah, it's mine, so please dunt steal -December 1st 2001 (c) Phantom Angel