Whispers of the Forgotten by Mason Carter

In shadows deep, where silence weeps,
Beneath the moon's cold, spectral gleam,
A village lost in time's cruel keep,
Where freedom's flame ignites a dream.

The clocktower's chime, a mournful knell,
Echoes through streets of cobblestone,
In every heart, a tale to tell,
Of chains unbound, of seeds once sown.

The haunted halls of whispered lore,
Where specters of the past reside,
Once stifled cries now seek for more,
In unity, they turn the tide.

The withered hands of old decree,
With iron grip, they sought to bind,
But in the dark, a fervent plea—
To share the wealth of humankind.

A specter rises, bold and free,
In rags adorned with stories worn,
She calls for justice, harmony,
From ashes of the night reborn.

The raven's call, a rally cry,
To break the silence of despair,
With wings of hope, they pierce the sky,
To weave a world that's just and fair.

In moonlit fields where shadows dance,
They gather ‘round with fervent hearts,
A vision born from circumstance,
In every soul, the fire sparks.

Oh, let the chains of greed be broken,
Let tyranny's dark reign now cease,
With whispered words of love unspoken,
Together we shall find our peace.

In echoes of the past, we rise,
From darkened tombs, our spirits soar,
In every eye, a flame that flies,
For liberty, forevermore.