To those who have suffered in silence, to those who are still grieving, and to those who stand with us: We will not rest until we have what is rightfully ours—accountability, justice, and peace.

Is “Peace on Earth” Just a Song?

As we approach the close of yet another year, the words we sing and say—like “Peace on Earth, Good Will to All Men”—echo in our hearts. But have we ever really stopped to think about what those words actually mean? More importantly, do we believe they could become a reality, or are they just lines from songs and prayers, hollow words that we repeat without true conviction?

How Could They Sing "Goodwill Toward Men"?

The image of doctors and nurses singing about "goodwill toward men" feels almost grotesque in light of what has happened. How can they sing those words, knowing the actions they took—or failed to take—have caused such harm? How can they celebrate the notion of peace and goodwill when their negligence and betrayal has left families shattered, with no recourse, no answers, and no justice?

My grief and anger are not just understandable—they are justified. My child’s life was precious, irreplaceable, and filled with potential. No song, no holiday sentiment, can bring that back. No words can undo the hurt or fill the void that has been left in the wake of such loss. I have every right to ask: where was the goodwill towards my Danielle?

As we stand at the crossroads of 2024, looking ahead to the new year, it’s impossible to ignore the heavy weight of grief that still hangs over us. The echoes of those we’ve lost—our mothers, fathers, children, sisters, and brothers—still haunt us, as the world moves on, indifferent and numb to the pain we carry. And yet, what have we learned? What have we truly learned in the wake of this chaos, this madness, is a system that seemed hell-bent on exploiting our suffering for profit?

The truth is undeniable: our loved ones were not just casualties of a virus—they were sacrificed for COVID blood money. The medical system, the government, the institutions that were supposed to care for us, turned their backs and used us as pawns in a game of greed. The hospitals, the doctors, the nurses, many of whom we trusted implicitly, have blood on their hands. And we will not forget.

As we ring in the new year, we must ask ourselves—what kind of song will we sing? What words, what melody, can possibly encompass the weight of the lives taken, the lives destroyed by greed, corruption, and negligence? What will we sing as we remember the innocent souls who perished in the name of corporate profit, who were abandoned, mistreated, or outright murdered in the name of a pandemic that many of us now see as a pretext for exploitation and depopulation! The reality for many of us—especially those who have suffered devastating losses—can feel far removed from the image of peace and goodwill that we hear about during the holidays. Since 2020, and as we close 2024, we’re forced to reckon with a world that seems increasingly broken, violent, and unjust.

The Cost of Justice: A Nation That Demands More Than Empty Words

As we step into 2025, the haunting truth becomes impossible to ignore: Justice is a commodity, and its price is steep. For so many of us, that price is not just money, but the broken promises, the empty words, and the silence that follows every cry for help.

How many times have we heard the promises? How many times have we paid, funded traveled and supported so many faces of “freedom fighters,” the lawyers, the activists, the politicians—each one saying they will help, each one claiming to stand for the oppressed, the wronged, the forgotten? But what have they done? They stand with their hands outstretched, asking for donations, asking for support, but many offering little in return except for empty promises that seem to vanish as soon as they are spoken. Most of the world already knows the truth the evidence is public to anyone, who is seeking it, they shall find it. To those of you, who are simple men and women standing with us not seeking fame or fortune but truly seeking justice when you have not lost a loved one to Covid plandemic, I applaud you, you are genuine, you are a hero!

The tragic truth in today’s world, is that justice has become a business, and we—those who have lost loved ones, those who have been wronged, those who have suffered under the weight of betrayal—are nothing more than customers to be exploited. Some of best attorneys, the most powerful advocates, quiver in fear at the thought of rocking the boat. They tremble at the prospect of taking on the institutions that perpetuate evil—because the price of standing up to power is too high.

And what of those who call themselves “justice seekers”? Where is the bravery? Where is the courage to stand up and say, “Enough is enough”? Why does the woman holding the scales of justice, the symbol of our legal system, allowed to stand with her eyes closed, unwilling to see the truth before her? How much is enough to take from us and carry on with your lives while leaving us without hope.

The Silent Cowards:

They stand by, trembling in fear of upsetting the powers that be. It would cost them connections, it would cost them money, it would cost them their place in a corrupt system that thrives on exploitation. And as they quiver in the shadows, another life is lost. Another soul is taken from this earth, another family is left in ruins, with nothing but promises and empty words to hold onto. The cost of justice is not just measured in dollars—it’s measured in lives lost, in the broken hearts of families who are forced to stand by as the world moves on, as those in power continue to line their pockets while the rest of us suffer.

These so-called "freedom fighters"—the lawyers who advertise their services with promises of justice—don’t realize that justice is not for sale. We’ve been promised justice for far too long, and yet the scales of justice remain unbalanced, tilted in favor of those who hold the power. How much longer will we wait? How many more promises will we hear, only to see them fade away?

America: A Land of Injustice and Exploitation

The hypocrisy of this system is staggering. We are told that America is a beacon of hope, a land of freedom, a nation that will fight for justice across the globe. We’ve seen it time and time again—American soldiers sent to distant lands to “free” those who are oppressed, to deliver justice to nations that suffer under brutal regimes. Yet here we are, living in America, with loved ones lost to a broken system, and still no freedom for us. Where is the justice for the families who have been wronged by the very institutions that were supposed to protect them?

Is it really so different from the dictatorships we claim to fight abroad? Is it really so different from the corruption in Africa, where governments kill their own citizens and exploit them for personal gain? We have our own version of that corruption right here in America—it’s just hidden behind fancy suits, high-priced lawyers, and hospitals that pretend to care about their patients. The difference is that instead of bullets, they wield paperwork and legalese. Instead of oppression through force, they use exploitation through contracts and “donations.”

America might look like the land of the free on the surface, but for those of us who have lost loved ones, we are living in a country of fear, exploitation, and betrayal. So why is it that we, the people who have suffered, still remain trapped within this system? Why is it that those who could help, who claim to stand for justice, are too afraid to take on the powers that be? Why are they shaking in their boots while people like me—people who have lost so much—are forced to face the world alone, with nothing but empty promises and the crushing weight of our grief?

What Song Will We Sing for Our Fallen Loved Ones?

As we stand on the edge of a new year, we must ask ourselves: What song will we sing for the fallen?

The familiar carols of the holiday season, the songs of "Peace on Earth" and "Good Will to All Men," feel so hollow in the face of the bloodshed, the betrayal, and the loss we have suffered. How can we sing of peace when we know the true cost of it? How can we sing of goodwill when it has been stolen from us—when our loved ones were sacrificed on the altar of corporate greed? But that doesn’t mean we should be silent. We must sing—but not with complacency or resignation. We must sing with defiance. We must sing for our lost loved ones. We must sing for the families who are still fighting for justice. We must sing for accountability, for change, and for a world where no one’s life is a commodity to be traded for profit.

A Song of Hope and Perseverance: "A Change Is Gonna Come"

There is one song that feels appropriate for this moment, one that speaks to the promise of justice we are still waiting for, the hope we still carry despite everything we’ve lost. That song is Sam Cooke’s "A Change Is Gonna Come."

“It’s been a long, a long time coming,
But I know a change is gonna come.”

Change came for them, and will for us:

Abolition of Slavery: The Fight for Freedom

The Civil Rights Movement: Overcoming Racial Segregation

Martin Luther King Jr

Malcom X

Nelson Mandela

The Berlin Wall

For so many of us, the promise of change has been a long time coming. We’ve watched the years slip by—each one taking another piece of our hope, another piece of our hearts—and yet, justice still feels like a distant dream. We’ve lost loved ones to a system that has turned its back on us, a system that prioritized profit over care, over humanity. We’ve been waiting, waiting for accountability, for the truth to come to light, for those responsible to be held accountable.

But we cannot afford to wait any longer. A change is coming.

We may not see it today, we have not see it in 2024, but we will see it. We will fight for it. We will ensure that our loved ones are never forgotten. Their deaths will never be in vain. The world will not continue to turn a blind eye to our suffering. We will demand justice. We will demand change.

We Will Rise

2025 must be the year we refuse to be ignored. It must be the year we refuse to accept injustice any longer. It must be the year we demand change—not in the distant future, but now. Now is the time for action.

We will not stop. We will not rest. We will fight for justice—for the lives lost, for the truth ignored, for the promises that have been broken.

Let us make a vow: We will sing for them. We will fight for them. And we will never stop until justice is delivered.

Tonight I will sing “A change is coming”.

And we will make it happen.

Forever in love and in memory of my Danielle

Rebecca Danielle’s mom forever.

www.deathbyhospitalprotocol.com

Please consider helping me against Northwell Health Hospital, or by sharing my daughter’s give send go with your contacts.

https://www.givesendgo.com/JusticeforDanielle

Death by Hospital Protocol APP