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Beyond the ravaged, ruined roads
Where Bosnian blood in torrents flows,
Beyond the scarred and severed land
Where Bosnian children die in droves,
Beyond the frayed and fractured hills
Where Serbian shells with terror rain,
Beyond the wrecked and ravished walls
Where Bosnian children suckle death,
The world sits in silence;
The world sits on its hands;
The world turns its face of stone
From the vengeance and the violence.
Beyond the darkened doorways
Where cries of pain are heard,
Beyond the spectral highways
Where words of hope are lost,
Beyond the shattered windows
Where sunlight never streams,
Beyond the grim and gruesome mills
Where malice murder dreams,
The world sits in silence;
The world sits on its hands;
The world turns its face of stone
From the vengeance and the violence.
Upon the cheek of Liberty
Tears of shame are found,
But no one feels their impact
As they thunder to the ground.
Even blinded Justice
Sees through the veil of lies
That chain and choke the voices
That call for truth to rise.
Weep not, o mother of light,
For the horror that descends.
Weep not, o daughter of night,
For the evil that ascends.
It is our callous heart
That robs the torch of tallow.
It is our savage soul
That spawns the night of sorrow;
As the world sits in silence,
The world sits on its hands,
The world turns its face of stone
From the vengeance and the violence.
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