When the shadows wax long, when the campfire burns low,
When the monsters of sadness rejoice and renew,
All we have is our hope, like a bright shining light,
To guide us through marshes, a spear-like canoe.
Our hope is our destiny, dreams are our future,
To lead through the alien realms of unknown,
For when hope is our leader, a glowing gold beacon,
Our dreams are reality, lifetime foreknown.
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