Farewell, for will tomorrow bring what may,
To yesterday; A dance to step with fate
And not to say to see a better day
Amidst what hold is known though tis to late
To play as Gods to step from where we came.
Are we not, if not then, the shadows past
From where we lay alive, yet to the same
Sundered souls, by grave, who will not be the last?
Beckoned to the faithful march, will we be,
And not a sigh nor word to gather hence
For the lens of latter day, which we see,
Is once, in memory, and has been since.
Hero, beggar, and to the likes of all,
What soul may live but for tomorrow’s call?

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