These are days of bitter sorrow, where the air tastes fresh with the tears of the innocent. These are times of hatred so thick it muffles out every other sound, consuming every ounce of hope it can find. These are memories of broken streets, aching with the cries and despair of those left behind.
It is on these days that a hand will be offered, promising to allow the grief stricken to stand. It is during these times that candles will be lit, their flickering lights driving away the blackness that threatens to seep in. It is in these memories that we will gather on the streets, mending them with our songs, our hearts and our love.
We will sing for those who's voices have been cruelly stolen, we will light our world for those who have been left in darkness, and we will walk our streets with the faith that love will prevail over evil tattooed upon our hearts.
For the more they shout the louder we will sing. The more they try to make us cower, the stronger we will stand. The more they attempt to turn us to darkness, the more we will love.