A Blessing in Disguise

Let the gates of this world open
Wide and oppressed
Of those who have truly spoken
Killing them nonetheless

Those who seal the truth
Have grown old and stale
They always come back to us
Ending up brittle and pale

The light shows down on many
Who seem to stick through
The trials and tribulations
Of everything done to you

We can still stand from chains
Even if they bring misery
It is called upholding righteousness
And brining back empathy

They call us the soft spoken
And maybe ones with hearts
They call us the blessed few
Cause we always feel torn apart

We can fight our own battles
And see things come alive
We can write our own stories
Cause in the end, we all must die