Crisis - Khalid Mukhtar

There’s a crisis in our homes,
In our neighborhoods and schools,
As we labor hard to tell
Intellectuals from fools;

Tweets and faces tell a story
Floating in a sea of doubt,
What was true is now a rumor,
But the word’s already out;

All the passion that we swallow
And the knowledge we receive
Come from places that are hollow
Upon tongues that don’t believe,

Ignorance once had a father
And its words are rich and red
Like the wine that taints the blood
Of all the offspring that it bred;

Yes, the captain burned the village
And the village burned all night,
But the hearts of all the children
Went on carrying the light.

As the blood upon the sands
Becomes tears in your eyes,
Let your tears become blood for
Each believing heart that dies.

It’s the crisis in our homes
In our neighborhoods and schools,
Beat a path to the fountain
Down where certain knowledge rules.

Listen to the weeping warner
Shout out to the hearing few:
If you do forget the Lord,
The Lord will make you forget you.

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