DUST OF THE FORGOTTEN

CREATION IA The sun burns high above the plains, The earth is cracked from years of pain, Children walk through dust and stone, Searching for a place called home. The river once gave life to all, Now silence answers every call, Yet in their eyes a fire remains, Stronger than the drought and rain. We are the dust of the forgotten, The voices buried by the years, Still we stand against the darkness, Still we rise beyond our fears. We are the dust of the forgotten, The children of the wounded land, Though the world may turn away from us, We still stand. The drums echo across the night, Calling hearts into the light, Mothers sing beside the flame, Teaching hope through hunger and pain. The elders tell the ancient tales, Of kingdoms strong beyond the veil, Of rivers wide and harvest skies, Before the years of sacrifice. We are the dust of the forgotten, The voices buried by the years, Still we stand against the darkness, Still we rise beyond our fears. We are the dust of the forgotten, The children of the wounded land, Though the world may turn away from us, We still stand. Through every storm we carry on, Waiting for a brighter dawn, The stars above still know our name, Though life will never be the same. No crown of gold, no palace walls, Only the strength when hardship calls, And though our hands may carry scars, Our dreams still reach beyond the stars. The drums grow louder in the night, The fire burns with ancient light, One voice becomes a thousand more, Rising from the dusty floor. No longer shadows, no longer unseen, No longer trapped between the dreams, The earth remembers who we are, Children of the ancient stars. We are the dust of the forgotten, The voices buried by the years, Still we stand against the darkness, Still we rise beyond our fears. We are the dust of the forgotten, The children of the wounded land, Though the world may turn away from us, We still stand. We still stand. We still stand.