We Are the People

We are the people without land We are the people without tradition We are the people Who do not know how to die peacefully and at ease We are the thoughts of sorrows Endings of tomorrows We are the wisps of rulers And the jokers of kings We are the people without right We are the people who have known only lies and desperation We are the people without a country, a voice, or a mirror We are the crystal gaze Returned through the density and immensity of a berserk nation We are the victims of the untold manifesto of the lack of depth Of full and heavy emptiness We are the people without sorrow Who have moved beyond national pride and indifference To a parody of instinct We are the people who are desperate Beyond emotion because it defies thought We are the people Who conceive our destruction and carry it out lawfully We are the insects of someone else's thought A casualty of daytime, nighttime, space, and God Without race, nationality, or religion We are the people, and the people, the people