020 — Where Others Flee | Talon Z. Gray

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(The light rises. Figures step forward.
Hands stained—not with blood, but with consequence.
Their voices are calm. Not propaganda—reality.)

You speak of justice as if it walks clean through your halls.

(Spotlight snaps on.)

In the shadow of a city’s beating heart,
A protector bleeds, torn apart—
Not by fists, or the weight of night,
But by whispers that dim the light.

Blame is cast without facing them.
But do they stand where shadows fall?
Do they hold when chaos calls?

A banner raised for shared ascent,
Twisted now—its purpose bent.
Not to lower, but to rise,
To meet the need, to equalize.

Who among them feels the pain—
Standing in the storm, again and again?
Who bears the scars, who pays the cost,
When lives are saved, but we are lost?

So speak of justice. Speak of reform.
But don’t make the sun the eye of the storm.
For those who stand where others flee—
Will always guard humanity.

(Lights fade.)