You will know us, cry the dead.
You will hear us, say the living.
Together they begin to form a union that cannot be broken
By the frustration of those who would rather pretend
That the problem has been resolved,
Or worse – that it never existed.
The names of those who died under unjust circumstances
Are too many to list.
Their souls impatiently waiting.
Expecting descendants to reenlist
In the legions for human dignity, redesign unfinished wars,
Turning over in the graves of those who marched and slaved before.
The uprooted and disbanded, trails of tears, left empty-handed.
We hear you, say the living.
And we understand it.
The problem did not die with you, the killers still exist.
Hypocrisy runs rampant and the murders still persist.
Mothers, fathers, children hunted, their blood shed by terrorists.
They will know us! say the living to the dead.