The Wounded

Ruins

The Wounded


We’re older
We’re elders of all this to come
From fathers to sons to new fathers
To teach them the future by seeing the past of all those before us
We raise them
We raise what we sow, we must fear it
Cause we have been drawing their future
We need to fear all we teach them
Or they all fall down

I’m an outcome
Of the fears of the fathers before me
Subjective, the truth that we stand for
These cultural matters we die for
With hope I pray, that I can make a difference in this dark world
To make up the hurts that I spread once
To end with my crosses forgiven. In my children’s arms

And I fell time is not on our side now
Yet all those I wish for are with me
Afraid I’ll be a thought left forgotten
Removed from the hearts of my loved ones
I live in submission
Of the fear to leave my children
Left to be forgotten
I don’t want to die

An outcome
Of fears of the fathers we are now
Subjective, the truth that we fought for
Man made, the truth that we’ve killed for
In silence I dream that we did make a difference for the new world

To make up the hurts that we spread once
To end with our crosses forgiven. In our children’s arms
When silenced, we left them only ruins
We left them a past without answers
We were the lessons they never learned
We may all fall down