Justice(?)

Do you hear that silence?

It’s the quiet of your compliance,

A society basking in the ease of its defiance,

Comfortable in complacency,

Softly wrapped in gossamer ignorance,

While the blood of the innocent stains 

the soil beneath your feet.

Look around, where do you stand?

On stolen land, blood-soaked sand,

Yet you sit with folded hands,

Eyes closed,

hearts cold,

Echoes of atrocities left untold.

Genocide, they call it—

whispered in the corridors of power,

Swept under the rugs of history, 

hour by hour,

Names erased, 

lives displaced,

Yet your conscience remains 

unstirred, untouched,

As you watch from your perch of privilege.

Comfort—your sweet, blinding anesthesia,

Numbing you to the screams, 

the pleas, 

the cries of the oppressed,

You sip your coffee, scroll your feed,

While another village burns, another child bleeds.

Apathy is the poison that fuels this fire,

The quiet acquiescence of the comfortable choir,

Singing songs of ignorance,

Humming tunes of neglect,

Turning a blind eye to the blatant disrespect.

Where is your outrage, your voice, your stand?

Or are you too comfortable on this stolen land?

Too afraid to acknowledge the blood on your hands,

To face the truth that you’ve been a part of the plan?

Comfortable complacency is complicity,

Your silence a knife in the backs of the displaced,

A nod to the oppressors, a cheer for the thieves,

A seal of approval on the carnage, the disease.

This is not just history; it’s the present tense,

A reality you shape with your indifference,

So wake up, 

rise up, 

let your anger burn,

Let your voice be the weapon that makes the tide turn.

For every life lost, 

for every soul torn,

For every piece of stolen land, 

every genocide worn,

It’s time to stand, 

to speak, 

to act,

To tear down the walls of comfort 

and bring justice back.