Dare the ancient azure sky above,
whether in cold contempt or gracious love,
defy the flags stretched black against her,
fluttering ghastly, to consume the world?
Though this cloud but dot our horizon,
barely the size of an outstretched hand,
it shall come grasping, groping,
to smother and choke; to seize the land.
Let us not be idle against this darkness,
let our hearts not be cold to pain,
let us stand with our backs to the sunset,
face to the growing, gaping stormfront,
and face unblinking the slew of rain.
We must not let that thirsty desert,
shaded as it is, by swords,
to cast its lengthening, sharpening shadows;
Do we think it will be stopped with words?
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