CLIMB. LEAP. LOOK

The things our eyes see
Our mouth can not tell
The things we hear
We cannot voice
What we yearn to say
Will crack their ear drums
The girl they killed yesterday
The blood the spilled before
Is enough ink to write
They are waiting
They are listening, for our reactions
It has come
It will flow like a torrent
Like a stream that is no longer silent
Destroying all obstacles on its way
A stream no longer silent
Even in our sleep
We will shout

Bose

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