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The Cries of a Wounded Nation
I awoke to the sound of tears
The constant reminder of our fears
If I were to change it all,
Ignore the threat of a mighty fall,
Would you be there to catch me if I should fail?
We tried to hide, as our foundation was tattered
The powerful Lord replaced by a new king,
His importance showed by his glowing ring,
And we were all but flattered.
All hope substituted with doubt
All love substituted with hate,
I cannot help but question,
Was this meant to be our fate?
Where is the key to unlock the towering gate?
It was close to the heart
But always apart.
We tried to put the present back as if it were the past,
Pretending it had never occurred,
A foggy memory appearing blurred,
Thinking, hoping, praying that it would not last.
We tried forgetting what the eyes were capable to see,
Forcing ourselves to forget what it meant to be free,
But our lust never tamed.
So the cries of my people met the ears of a foolish king,
A king whose heart was made of stone,
A man destined to stand alone,
And whose passion would dim like his once dazzling ring.
For you see,
You are only what you make yourself to be,
Nothing more and nothing less,
Just perhaps a complete and utter mess.
We shouted to the king,
“You cannot stop us
We will never back down
You cannot crush us
We will never bow down.”
Within that final moment,
When we raised our swords to battle,
An angelic voice sounded throughout the lands,
Soft with a gentle crackle,
Whipping us like a thousand fiery fans,
And the key was ours again
Our Lord shall rule again, my friend.