There have been many nights of interruption
Fear is the greatest tool of tyranny
History has his moments of corruption
Soldiers are the nodding eyes of suggestion
Peace is the theme of every people
God is no stranger to the cry
Oh when, oh when will we be seen as equal?
Meanwhile, God caresses with gossamer wings
History and mystery were shattered
Grandmother’s prayers swallowed like a chasm
Memories conceived have all been scattered
Birthed is the grandchild of fear
Terror grips, peace rips, we are together
Yesterday is broken, but I’m here.
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