They ask me, why? Why do I shun the glitter of the world?
Its offer of wealth and power in exchange for suppressing my voice against injustice.
How do I explain that the pull isn’t cultural, nor only the faith based upbringing.
That the natural devotion is steeped back in time way before the soul had a body.
That when the Lord asked, ‘Am I not your Lord?’
Yes indeed, I bear witness, the humble soul responded.
The witness is the struggle, a struggle for justice. Justice for all, come what may.
For how can the voice be silenced that promised its Lord even before it was forged.
