To the Kind and Honorable Judge

To the Kind and Honorable Judge of an Unnamed Region:

In your land there lives a people,
An aching, tyrannized people.
Their mouths are open in a cry,
That the world is deaf to.

In those people lives a girl.
A lonely, little girl
Who waits with open arms
For what will never come.

In that girl there lives a heart,
A sad, perplexed heart,
That waits for what
It's never known.

In that heart there lives a love,
A love the bearer can't detect.
It's hidden away, buried deep,
Under confusion and misery.

In that love there lives a sister,
A melancholy, hopeful sister,
Who above all else wants one thing,
One thing she can't yet have.

In that sister lives a love,
A love for what she's never known,
But understands she's bound to love,
Whether she knows or not.

In that love, there lives a heart,
A heart that beats with fury,
A righteous indignation
That none can take away.

In that heart there lives a girl,
A stranded little girl,
With the smallest sliver of hope
The world tries to cover up.

In that little girl there lives a people,
A people only she can fully know
Whose suffering is yet to be discovered,
And never yet may cease.

In that people there lives your land,
Your land that hates with a fiery passion,
When you are the oppressors, and they are the oppressed.
They have no fire for you, and no water to quell your flames.

Best wishes to you. May God bless you.

Sincerely,

One Who Will Never Understand