Petaℒ diary

All are in mourning, heads bowed down, Men on the gallows, women locked down. Not of the heavens, not of the ground, As if we’re asleep where nightmares are found. We take our numbers, lost in the line, Even for dying, we wait our time. Days and nights pass, drained of their sound, They lead us wherever they want us bound. How long must we sit, silent and torn? Feeding on longing, watching grief born. O lonely woman, O man who’s run, Your homeland’s your heart split, undone. Rise now. Act. Be the voice, the spark, Search for a way through the endless dark. Think of these hearts, broken and scarred, A nation of souls, shattered and hard. All are in mourning, heads bowed down.

All are in mourning, heads bowed down, Men on the gallows, women locked down. Not of the heavens, not of the ground, As if we’re asleep where nightmares are found. We take our numbers, lost in the line, Even for dying, we wait our time. Days and nights pass, drained of their sound, They lead us wherever they want us bound. How long must we sit, silent and torn? Feeding on longing, watching grief born. O lonely woman, O man who’s run, Your homeland’s your heart split, undone. Rise now. Act. Be the voice, the spark, Search for a way through the endless dark. Think of these hearts, broken and scarred, A nation of souls, shattered and hard. All are in mourning, heads bowed down.