A voice to lift us all; we chant to repeat

A lesson that teaches us to learn 

The life to live is not of our own; but of the collective, the hive of society

Eyes of the old stare to see the new, the new way, the new way things work

We walk through the Garden of Eden

Snakes rattle at our feet

Washed of dirt, the soil of god

We march through the protest; he is with us

He speaks for us to read, but we are blind to the word, to the world

We learn that words can speak more fire then any flame or sword will ever do

More than when we have done to our own

To the ones we call other

But some days we call them our brother, our sister, our father and mother 

But in the twisted heart to them, they will just be, ‘other’

This is not a poem of sadness but of hope 

Scars of life do not heal but we learn to see them and accept their meaning

Scars are not to hurt or to shame but to inspire

If I can live with this, through this, you can live life without fear 

Let us be we again. The unified that never has been, yet must be – 

the land where every me is we