We all carry within us
the dark of personal pain,
and the weight of this burden
can engender mortal strain.
We populate our Stygian night
with sparkling points of hope,
providing a spiritual focus,
and giving us strength to cope.
Others will call our dreams insane,
and hasten to prove us wrong,
but once we have learned the tune
it is hard not to hum the song.
With raging chaos threatening,
and ignorance ruling the day,
we are in an intellectual fog,
and struggle to find our way.
Let us pause, and cry for might-have-been,
then think of happier things,
and rest, and anticipate the change
that revolution brings.
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