War drums beat, people cry,

not tears of sorrow but tears of joy.

It was the day, the final day,

the much awaited day, the overdue day.

I stood at the head, legs tensed,

thrown forward by the surge of people breaking free.

'Free? are you mad?!' the'd asked,

'Free?thats impossible!' they'd said,

but not one of them had dared to laugh

for a dream lurked under the veil of fear.

And now that we stood there, at the dawn of something new,

i allowed myself a smile,

and war drums were beaten, people cried,

not pleas of mercy but a promise of revenge.

When the order was given,

hearts soared, feet thundered,

and age old stones crumbled

and on that day, that overdue day,

man, woman, child- not one was left behind.

And war drums were still beaten, people still cried,

not a salute to injustice but the judgement of truth.

Arrows rained, bullets flew,

symbols of tyranny were torn

and a new flag was born,

a new era was born, a new age was born,

and on that day, that overdue day,

humanity was reborn.

And war drums beat, people cry,

not from the misery of domination

but from the triumph of revolution.