O Freedom, thy mother of open sky!
Wherefore hast thine children flown?
Trapped on Earth reap they, with heavy sigh,
the bitter crop which hast been sown.
With prideful hearts came, from yonder star,
we, from the wide heavens, our souls untamed!
But how such pride is death-marked! Far
have we fallen, flames cooled, hearts lamed.
Cold fear doth runith through our veins, a shade
of the old spirit, our rightful hope!
Keepith some, the embers--they shalt not fade
and for three years hence so shall we cope.
Until then we shall reach out from behind these bars
and dream of our lives among the stars.
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