We have become slaves of the times

As our hearts yield to the present state of reality

So we will not take a stand as to what we want

But unwilling we accept what we are given

Harsh as the pouring heat in the desert

Like the unending streams of the water falls

Life is as the painful strokes that will not stop coming

Evident are stripes that line our backs like tribal marks

And our strained faces will accommodate no smiles

We have fought once before for the dreams we once conceived…

But our defeated hands will hold no more swords

So we will not allow our hearts dream again for the price maybe our blood

And the precious lives we have had to lose in the course of the war

Like slaves we have decided to yield to the commands of these times

Yet circumstances still do not decide on their own

They are like obedient children that will do as told

If this be true, who then is responsible for the pains we have had to bear

Is it the stern hold of some curses?

Or by natural selection, what we may call our losses?

They are our brothers; those who hold us in chains are relations

The winter winds of greed have frozen cold their hearts

And now they are like strangers from distant lands

These ones, once shared in our dreams

They once felt the pains that we still feel

But were quick to forget upon stumbling on stolen wealth

And now they have been carried away to serve time in less painful prisons

But their stolen wealth is their sweet poison

Although sluggish, one day regretfully it will take their lives.

Why point at me? I have committed no sin

I have only been sitting and watching things go wrong

I didn’t want to get involved for fear that I may get stained by the mud

The filth for which the active have become guilty

What is your righteousness you laggard?

You are even guiltier for your neutral approach

The same punishment pertains to you as to your supposed foes

So wake up and take a stand, that you may save your own soul