Names of the killed. Stabbed shot and set on fire.
It's not just them their killers wanted dead.
We hear the killer voice inside our head
I'm coming for you too. And fear's a liar
that quite convinces when we lie awake.
And hurts so much to die each time we dream.
So some choose pills, a rope slung from a beam.
And choose the day they die. It's for the sake
of murdered sisters, also those whom fear
of murder turned away from us, misled
that they gave up. Not killed, they still are dead
dead of the killers. This is why we're here
Mourn all our killed, our lost. We're here to save
each other. May shared mourning make us brave.