We are Beautiful

I want my epitaph to say this is the title.
And yours, you say, you are here.
But we are not where we begin here,
and now, we are moving for the gulf,
what’s left of it—the spray of voices.
There's something more here than just voice,
the true song in our hymn.

We had locked us away to sing.
And though we felt scared alone,
we were always strong enough to go.
We are viable. We are spreading.
We will not be dead for a long time.