You're barely holding on,
Hardly gripping, to all you have.
And everything you've been giving,
And everything you gave.
When you have let go,
of your hardest choices.
Let life be filled with love.
Nothing more, nothing less.
We heard a voice,
bridge the way, called out for what
brings us back.
Like power and privilege,
you keep trying to push us down.
A plague, a virus, no isolation.
No hour, that could keep us from overcoming.
Hardly gripping to all you have,
everything you've been given,
and gave where you stand.
When you let go, when you feel alive.
Let life be an active montage of love.
Weakness, through cowardice.
We can't prevail without guidance.
The waves surround me.
We can't gasp without the strangle of age.
There's no point to life unless it ends.
I can't speak.
Left standing, we have heard a voice inside.
'Bridge the way: call out.'
Like a power, like a privilege.
You keep trying to push us down.
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