Fools and finicky frolickers filibuster. We rob ourselves of aching love stories. An exile is only as sweet as the return; Broken hearts are resurrected by the imminent pounding Of those ostentatious war drums.
Hold this fortress, this fragile obscurity. Let buried flags speak their truth. As the fires spread, so will the stars dance. The lit up sky will rain wishes. Sing along to a new uncompromised folklore.