When all hearts were empty, when all joy had long left,

Victim of the power of the world’s greatest theft,

In this soundless moment when night is the darkest,

Fell down from the clear sky the angels of star-dust

They knew not what they should be; believed what they must

To vanquish this dark foe, prevent this mad harvest,

But how will they gain trust from all those they protect?

For they are not human, therefore should not expect

Any joy at their sight, no matter if they fight

For the same side, this light, to end the livings’ plight.

In the end they might fall, lost to this great struggle,

Or they might rise and shine if they somehow manage

Their duty, their pride and destiny to juggle;

Fret not, not all is lost, they have one advantage,

One heroes always have: the power of pure hope

And none can deprive them of this long, long trite trope.


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