Close your eyes,
To the blood staining my page as I write,
Close your mind,
I guess that you feel nothing inside,
Don’t cover your ears,
They ‘re already too far away for you to hear,
Out of grasp and out of sight,
I guess they should never bother I,
But if I was them, would I not wish for them to cry,
At the state of my people and the rivers of blood,
Would you not wish to change it, if you believed that you could.
Those who came before us,
Tell me, were they not of us?
Were they not people with a vision and heart full of love?
Compassion, conviction, and a clear path they would pave,
In whose presence any barrier ahead would be erased,
You see they were not afraid to walk alone,
Nor were they afraid of the unknown,
They carried faith in their hearts,
For they were walking the path of the most beautiful of arts,
A path of love, for the better of their kind,
A feeling that I can tell you I will always feel deep inside.
Yet every time I pick up this pen to write,
I see a page full of blood reflected in my eyes,
Because the pain I want to portray is alive in my mind,
But when I seek to write, all I see on the page are these rhymes,
And this is not enough, it is time we stand and walk,
Time we shout the words, we were once afraid to talk,
Time we choose to act, it’s not so simple anymore.
Be compelled to act,
Don’t be afraid to speak,
Never be afraid of the taste of deceit,
Because love blossoms from the depths of man whose heart was weak,
Whose strength was built as he stood up from his knees,
Don’t let your passion be ignited by anger,
Learn to fill your heart with love,
And don’t be afraid to say that enough is enough,
The truth stands before you, you were witness to their lies,
I see that you are strong, and you have reason to fight,
Nurture the power within,
Swear your life in service of the weak,
For a man whose oath is such, will never taste defeat.