As Emily said of hope,
That which perches in the soul,
Made of feathers and a song,
A wordless tune, it’s endless dole.
A saffron flame will light the way,
And ignite the fire within.
I once was lost, without a name
But can now begin again.
And although the clock ticks on,
The wordless tune, my flock holds dear
We spread our wings and battle on,
Even though the end is near.
We fight as one, a stronger voice
Though footsteps mark, not all who go.
Our flock persists, passing the torch,
As we fight this dreadful foe.