With the Words of Men

Were the dream inviolate or stolid in these prefect times,
All souls might through justice see demise
Wandering these woods and caverns on his own path
To honor these patches of the golden hearth

Those that have laid in the dust and the mire
The prostrate, the fallen, the ash, and the fire
The wicked, the just, the rich, and the poor
The broken and mended, the remnants of war

We were those faces, those gone long ago
That climbed up the mountain and dredged through the snow
That drifted like time in the sands by th' Aegean
Hoping it would wash from us all that we know is unclean

What more should we hope for in these times, aflame
When the shouts of afflicted go not on the same
Where hearts know conviction and truth of the mind
When heart knows that love gives sight to the blind

We are not those we saw that went on before
We are the children of something greater, something more
Of the thoughts of a nation, of the rising and sun
When our youth and our valor were the seeds we have sown

To change the promises our fathers did preach
To rescue our souls by the brands that we breached
When the scars trickled down at the pain we did spend
To the future our ears, prickling to mend

We drift on through this savage grace
But challenging now to make it a race