In the stillness of the night, where whispers echo,
A voice emerges from the depths of discontent,
A symphony of longing, a collective cry,
For our masters have not heard the people's voice.
Generations have passed, yet silence persists,
A chasm widens, a divide ever deepening,
Their ears have grown deaf to our fervent pleas,
But our voices resonate, louder than they recall.
The weight of our dreams, the burden of our hopes,
Ignored for far too long, but now we rise,
Unyielding, unafraid, a force they can't ignore,
For the people's voices cannot be silenced anymore.
Through the alleys of oppression, we march,
In the streets, our footsteps echo resilience,
A chorus of defiance, a battle cry for change,
Our words, like wildfire, ignite the hearts of many.
Our masters, beware, for the time has come,
To acknowledge our existence, our rightful place,
In this tapestry of life, we demand to be heard,
For our voices are the symphony of the forgotten.
No longer shall they silence our vibrant souls,
For the people's voice reverberates through time,
It echoes in the winds; it resonates in every heart,
And it is much, much louder than they care to remember.
YOU ARE READING
Man was Born for Love and Revolution
PoetryMan was not born to merely exist, but to live a life filled with love and revolution. Love is the driving force behind all human interactions and relationships. It is what brings us together, connects us, and creates a sense of belonging. Without lo...
