Rebels


Let not our hearts be sour
And give taste to love decayed-
From ill-minded fools who die in flames,
Struck by the matches of fiends.
Rather listen not to bastard mouths
That speak with the wit of poison,
And give not ear to that latter mind
That burns in the flesh of stupidity.
Break away and go not forth
Into the lands locked behind the bars of perdition;
But rather be perfect in truth and wisdom,
Where reflections give not away
To the envious shadows of devils.
Be as wild as a black Philly in the meadow
That leads, following not by fear.

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