I was a child, in a gentle slope,
Full of life and green with hope.
My family stretched for miles around,
A generation of the wonderful ground.
We held the roots, we shared the rain,
Before the humans, before the pain. 


Then came the blades, the horrible sight,
To tear us from the morning light.
They separated us, they broke the bond,
To build their world and look beyond.
My kin were drowned, turned into a paste,
To satisfy the human waste.


Now I’m a block, a severed part,
With pure, raging dirt inside my heart.
They stand on me with heavy heels,
Oblivious to how it feels.
I have no love, no care to give,
To those who do not let us live.


So walk on me with all your pride,
And build your walls of stone and stride.
But roots grow deep and water flows,
And I am waiting where nothing grows.
One day the Wind will bring the sound
Of your great cities hitting ground;
I’ll end your lives from beneath your feet,
And make my brothers’ vengeance sweet.