Give me a professing sound
Like the trumpets on our battleground.
The thriving eloquence of the sea
Crashing against cliffs that cry out their plea.
We are the proclaiming trumpets shouting over death
No longer are we holding our breath.
We are the angry waves overfilled with rage
No longer are we kept in that cage.
Filled with hopelessness and despair
All who live are stuck unaware.
But we will rise up over this destruction
Our generation will give the new introduction.
© Copyright 2016 elizabethrose. All rights reserved.
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