Choir of the Unheard

In cathedral shadows deep as debt,
We gather — voices raw from screaming
Into capitalism’s void,
Each throat a temple
Of unspoken revolution.

Listen to our harmony:
The migrant’s lullaby,
The prisoner’s blues,
The worker’s weary hymn,
Blending into storm-song power.

Our chorus rises from
Society’s basement,
Where hope grows like moss
In darkness fertile
With forgotten dreams.

We sing the anthems
They tried to silence:
Union songs and protest chants,
Freedom’s fierce spirituals,
Each note a fist raised high.

Our voices weave together:
The homeless veteran’s dirge,
The single mother’s aria,
The disabled warrior’s chant,
Creating strength from sorrow.

See how our song builds,
Like thunder gathering,
Like waves mounting,
Until even cathedral walls
Tremble with truth’s resonance.

We are the choir they feared —
Harmony born of hurt,
Symphony shaped by struggle,
Each voice carrying
The weight of thousands.

When we sing of justice,
Stained glass windows shake;
When we chant for freedom,
Stone angels weep;
When we cry for change,
The very stars lean closer.

Our music moves through
Streets and subways,
Factory floors and food banks,
Calling out to others
Hidden in shadow’s embrace:
“Join us, join us, join us.”

For in this choir,
Every voice matters,
Every story strengthens
Our sacred symphony,
Until our song becomes
A weapon against silence,
A shield against despair,
A bridge across darkness.

Listen now —
The storm is breaking,
But our voices rise still,
Unheard no longer,
As we sing tomorrow
Into being,
Note by defiant note,
Until justice itself
Joins our song.