In the shadows of time, one has fought for a cause,

       trodden and weary, stumbling while lost.

       Searching for such to call all their own,

   no dwelling to claim, for they haven't a home.

    Stripped of their honor, a deep-seated pain,

 robbed of their history through loss of their name.

   Oppression still whispers to weaken the mind,

  "Surrender resolve and true peace you will find".

  Yet there is no peace where there isn't a choice,

   The pursuit of free-will is the intellect's voice.

  Strength to move forward, grasp sight of the goal,

  while justice remains towards the end of the road.

  Enlightenment's shared as one travels the path,

   while sensing, the fear, the anger, the wrath.

      The power of one, so effective a force,

  dispelling old mindsets by changing its course.

To mend things undone, someone must take a stand.

    The power of one; the best part of the plan.

   One must be bold. There's a price to be paid,

     for the struggle is old; it continues today.

   Equality's wrought when one levels the scale,

     to fight for a cause where others may fail.

     Free-will is a privilege, superior to none,

   so let's never discount the true power of one.