Not Ours to Break

They are born beneath the same sky,

Hearts that beat, just like you and I,

But we write them into chains and steel,

Ignore the cries we choose not to feel.

Milk from a mother stolen each dawn,

A baby torn, and then she's gone—

What kind of world calls this "humane"?

Where profit thrives on another’s pain?

But they were not born for our hunger,

Not to bleed beneath our thunder.

Their eyes hold stars we’ve learned to fake,

But their souls are not ours to break.

No, they are not ours to break.

Feathers fall from trembling skin,

In silence loud as factory din.

A life reduced to meat and bone,

A graveyard stacked where light once shone.

Eggs are stolen in morning's hush,

Piglets scream beneath the crush—

All for taste, a fleeting thrill,

But the truth can't hide behind a grill.

They were not born for our fashion,

Not to die for shallow passion.

Their joy is real, their fear awake,

But their lives are not ours to take.

No, they are not ours to take.

Open your eyes, it’s not too late,

To stand for love, to liberate.

A plate can hold compassion too—

What we choose says who we are true.

Will you silence the screams, or set them free?

Will you walk blind, or finally see?

In every cut, in every steak,

There's a heart that didn’t want to break.

They were not born to serve our story,

Not to die in secret, stripped of glory.

Each breath they took was theirs to make,

Their world is not ours to remake—

Their lives are not ours to break.

No, they are not ours to break.

Let them be... let them be...

Set them free… set them free…