We Are the People

We are the people without land

We are the people without tradition

We are the people who do not know how to die peacefully and at ease

We are the thoughts of sorrows

Endings of tomorrows

We are the wisps of rulers

And the jokers of kings

We are the people without right

We are the people who have known only lies and desperation

We are the people without a country, a voice, or a mirror

We are the crystal gaze returned through the density and immensity of a berzerk nation

We are the victims of the untold manifesto of the lack of depth

Of full and heavy emptiness

We are the people without sorrow

Who have moved beyond national pride and indifference

To a parody of instinct

We are the people who are desperate

Beyond emotion because it defies thought

We are the people who conceive our destruction and carry it out lawfully

We are the insects of someone else's thought

A casualty of daytime, nighttime, space, and God

Without race, nationality, or religion

We are the people, and the people, the people