Still I rise I read. br br Every emotion I define without words. br Every feeling I example with no thoughts. br Every imagination draw unseen dreams. br Even ear drams beat to the sound of un heard voices. br br Still I rise I listen. br br To metaphors that tell a different story. br To stories that sight my eyes inside the story. br To visions that turn into reality. br To a reality that was once history. br br Still I rise she said. br br From the dead of once never lived, I rose. br From words long lost in fear, I rose. br From unwritten scrolls, my path was written. br From ink and reed, I was born.