As sparks of fire ignite the sky
From here to there to each passerby
The summer fever reaches its peak
Gunpowder birds bring joy in their beaks

I do wonder if there is a cost
Do we prosper only when others have lost?
For every saint, for every knave
Is there another at his grave?

If God dost reward and pain allay
He too punishes and takes away
I stared at the abyss and saw a face
A tempered soul with a longing gaze

It spoke: “Live! For the moment is yours
In your life, you will fight many wars
There will come a time you’re at the brink
A chalice called hope, you must drink

Lest every martyr and every joy misplaced
All their sacrifices will lay in waste
Look once more upon the silver night
And seize that which is yours by right


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