Hope, by Olo Lamna

The time has gone and passed us by;
the clock has struck the hour.
We've yet to break these cursed chains
and see our freedom flower.
Many before us have closed their eyes
and left us all behind,
and many more will do this still--
it's a quality of the times.
But while our breath still sobs from lips
and cries of protest ring,
and the bullets flow, from guns and clips
to mangle everything;
As long as we have life in us
we'll fight, at any cost
for we are not beaten, we are not broken--
and the battle has not been lost.