Sometimes justice comes for those yet unborn, so that their eyes never face the light,
So they never experience hate, or hurt, or doom or dread,
But for those of us left alive, justice is like dark whispers in the dead of night
A rumour of friendly spirits turned to dust, a dream, a wish… the wind.
Sometimes justice comes in our imagination, hope of victory, promise of vengeance,
Thoughts of retribution for bloodshed, visions of peace from pain,
Sometimes justice comes for those who fall asleep, whose eyes will never see another dawn
Sometimes justice comes for the lost, sometimes justice comes for the departed.
And so we dream of justice for generations lost in the waters,
Justice for those whose songs were silenced, snatched as they sang,
Justice for stillborn dreams, desires destroyed at their dawn,
Justice for those forced to live in shadow, in the valley of tears, in the sunken place,
Justice for the bodies, whose souls were stolen into silence,
Justice for those who disappear when their skies explode in fire and fury,
Justice for those struck down in unsafe havens they dared to call home,
By familiar faces, looked upon with love and longing…
We dream of justice,
And so we fight for justice,
And so we live for justice,
Because sometimes, sometimes…justice comes.