They spoke to us of peace,
like a far off target,
and then gave us a bow and an empty quiver.

Bound we were to miss
the life that was promised
that was left to chance and not to choice.
In a space of no hope
holding on a broken rope
shouting with a silent voice.

We held our breaths for many years,
ourselves we wrapped with dreams,
so as not shiver.

We piled up our crippling fears
and crafted dams to stop the rivers of our tears.

Within a world that broke our spirit,
that turned us into flesh and bones,
we learnt to speak the tongues of love,
our pages we turned to tomes.

We stacked them up
and crafted ladders
of layers of choice and hopes,
we climbed up the clouds of faith,
and threw away our dirty glasses
we saw the world with open eyes,
we saw what flourished through our ashes.

So when the trumpets let us know,
that every pain we've ever suffered,
with it forever we may stay
or choose to finally let go,

We can decide our gaze to turn
from what can now stay behind,
and lock our eyes on what’s ahead
for what was planted
may now grow.