In lands where whispers weave their tales,
A voice cries out from shadowed vale,
“Touch me not,” the echo sings,
In hearts where silent longing clings.

Bound by chains of silent woe,
A story etched in time’s soft flow,
Where dreams of freedom dare to rise,
Against the dark, beneath the skies.

A nation’s soul, a hero’s plight,
In pages inked with courage bright,
The whispers grow, the voices swell,
In every heart where hope must dwell.

So heed the call, the silent plea,
In every word, a path to see,
For justice waits, in shadows cast,
A future free, from chains of past.