Silent Masses
Rejoice, pure soul
’twas not in vain
for in remembrance of your death
we remain

Their tanks shall not hurt you
their guns shall not kill you

A week takes a thousand lives
these are the ways of our time
Grateful, though, I might be
the dead
eat away at me

Lived, I have
to see
a mockery made of me

Oh Pharoah,

Sell me not, the apparition of stability
Sell me not divisiveness
and hate
Sell me not your voice
of tyranny

Sell it, not to me
for my sisters
my brothers
have banished thee

no longer


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