We were the flowers that never bloomed
We withered in the storm of violence
We lost our petals, our fragrance, our colors
We fell one by one, like raindrops of blood
What did you gain, O Gardener of life?
If you wanted us in your heavenly garden
Why did you not transplant us with care?
Why did you let us rot in this barren land?
Are you pleased with your other plants
That grow thorns and poison and weeds
That choke and kill in your name
We are just buds, too young to understand
We cried out to you, in innocence and pain
We counted our ages, our hopes, our dreams
We asked you why, why, why, why
Why did you give us life, only to take it away?
You must have heard us, O Gardener of life
You must have felt our tears, our fears, our grief
You must have a plan, a reason, a purpose
We can hope, we can trust, we can believe
You will come back, O Gardener of life
You will prune and weed and sow and reap
You will end the evil, the hatred, the strife
Or are we the gardeners of our own destiny?
Where each seed is a soul, and each soul is a god
Where we have the power, the choice, the responsibility
To create or destroy, to love or hate, to heal or hurt
Don’t just wait, don’t just pray, but act
