An Ember in the Ashes

The past freedom leaders are gone;
Replaced by cruel predators of the dawn;

The sky holds sunlight no more;
Too grief-stricken and too sore;

I wonder if in the past they flew like birds of the night;
Too free and joyful to think of their flight;

Even if there is onky darkness now, I feel an ember in the ashes;
Small but still it flashes;

I recognize it, hope;
Still small, but strong as a rope;

Yes, I feel an ember in the ashes;
And soon I turn it into a dream that crashes and flashes;

It turns into a fire that roars and rages;
Like wild cats released from their cages;

I am weak no more;
I am a bird with wings of fire that soar.

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