Hidden in its pain and in its awake,
Humans of no relation to me,
Different their faces and features
Different their customs and language

Only in common, the humanity
More than enough to last and bind
The distant strangers, as of their own

Stands there in my way,
The old statues of fallen grace
The old hands cast in iron
Abundance in arrogance but miserly
Of knowing their own, and humanity

They say “nature is brutal� but more
These hands of arrogance and power
This old disease with no cure
In brutality, in control and indifference

Let me help, those mothers and children
Let me help, those tattered souls
Listen to these pleas and appeals

Hidden in its pain and in its awake
Humans of no relation to me,
Only to be killed again, by you
In the name of control and power