In the silence of the night, a whisper calls,
From pages worn, a story unfolds,
Of wounds unseen, of freedom’s plight,
In shadows deep, a nation’s fight.

Through eyes that gleam with fervent fire,
The hearts of many yearn and tire,
Chains unseen but felt so tight,
In every tear, in every fight.

A cry for justice, loud and clear,
In silent halls, we hear, we hear,
The echoes of a distant past,
A call to rise, to stand steadfast.

Noli Me Tangere, the cry resounds,
In every heart, in every town,
The wounds may heal, but never fade,
Until true freedom’s serenade.