On somber stones
My feet do tread
With these ideals
Roaming through my head
Of virtue and truth
And things left past
It seems our future
In steel is cast
A dark misery
Mine eyes behold
If not in pieces
We find the mold
Where power is
An unjust tool
Weilded with ease
By countless fools
To raise the self
They will trap the free
Bringing destruction
To harmony
Creativity itself
Will be but a pawn
Music and art
Will only fuel the con
With words on paper
Set to rhythm and rhyme
And help from a friend
Known simply as time
I will mend the wounds
They will carry out
And stand against power
Firm, without doubt
Of one thing I will ask
You must not be passive
Freedom for all
Is something only all can live