THE
FUTURE HEROES
Cry the cry,
Hath the martyr cried.
Deeply like a baby that needs her
mother,
Inside a solitary feast,
For the sake of the falling ones.
Oh! The future heroes.
Thine strength make the world,
You are the pillar of the aged.
Thine wears are of cain,
Ready to expose the dazzling
breast.
Look! Look! ! Think! ! !
Thine unseen friend is looking,
With it hath the world made.
Let all vices be gone,
That the good home will not be
open.
Let hands be on deck to save the
gray.
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