In the world we share, beneath the same sun,
There exists a wound, deep and undone.
An injustice, persistent, casting a long shadow,
Across the landscape of human sorrow.

A silent specter, it weaves its thread,
Through the fabric of life, a tapestry spread.
Invisible chains that bind and confine,
Injustice, a phantom, by design.

It lurks in the corners of society's gaze,
A labyrinth of inequity, a complex maze.
Silent, yet loud in its relentless creed,
Sowing seeds of disparity, a poisonous seed.

It whispers in the halls of power and might,
A clandestine language, shrouded in night.
Injustice, a serpent, winding its way,
Through the garden of fairness, leading astray.

Yet, against this backdrop, a flame does glow,
A beacon of hope, against the ebb and flow.
The voice of resistance, a chorus strong,
Against the rhythm of injustice, a defiant song.

For every chain, a hand to break,
For every silence, a voice to shake.
In the face of injustice, courage takes a stand,
A testament of will, across every land.

Injustice may wound, may leave its mark,
Yet, against the darkness, there is a spark.
A flame of justice, burning bright,
Guiding humanity through the darkest night.

So here's to the brave, to the undeterred,
Who against injustice, their voices heard.
In the symphony of life, they play their part,
A melody of justice, from the human heart.