And their voices rose in unison,
the same tempo, the same rhythm,
their hearts beating as one.
.
And their songs resounded
in every corner of every street
and the sound could break walls.
.
And their footsteps echoed
and they had the earth quaking
at their mercy under their feet.
.
And they made us all believe,
and we sung all their songs
and our hearts became in synch.
.
And for a moment all was well,
and victory was floating in the air,
and they held their hands over their heads.
.
It was when the wind changed
and the sun turned to blood red
and joy turned into panic and fear.
.
And they ran and fought and charged,
and their songs turned to screams
and their footsteps to falling bodies.
.
And we all watched it from a distance
with closed blinds and windows shut,
without turning to assist them at all.
.
And silence fell, and it was deafening,
there was no sound, no air, no life
and they were all sinking to the ground.
.
And the rest of us would later say
nothing can be done to make a change
and we would all turn our eyes away.
.
And the elder will proclaim again
that Revolutions are all made from air
and return to their card games.
.
And the thing we never understood
is that it shouldn't have been theirs
but it should have been ours.
.
For the world is our own, all of us,
and it should be our voices in unison
and our hearts together as one.
.
And the Spirit of the Revolution would live
if we could all, together, just stand still
and reach out to our brothers and sisters.
.
And make a change without death,
and paint the world different than red
and build a future as one, side by side.
.
But we sit still, raging at the T.V.
cursing at every injustice that we see
hoping the next generation will get to live.
.
