In the heart of ancient lands, echoes cry,
Where rivers once sang, now silent they lie,
The chains of old, their shadows still cast,
Upon the soil, memories of a past vast.

Beneath the sun, stories untold, unseen,
Whispers of heritage, what might have been,
The silent struggles, the battles within,
A continent’s soul, yearning to begin.

In fields of gold, dreams were sown and lost,
Carved by hands that counted not the cost,
Yet from the ashes, a phoenix takes flight,
Seeking justice, in the long night.

Healing winds blow through the ancient trees,
Carrying hopes on the gentle breeze,
Together we rise, breaking the chains,
Reclaiming the land, where hope remains.