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The Spark
A voice called so Hannah went.
She went for a higher call
It ended badly, but it was meant
She had to go, lest honor fall.
At the cross of the last road back
She nerved herself to go, attack
She blocked both ears with cold white frost
And cried for the life that she had lost.
Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame
Blessed is the flame that burns in the fastness of the heart
Blessed is the spirit, awakened by a spark
Blessed is the ember, glowing in the dark.
Blessed is the flame that illuminates the secrets of the heart
A beacon that makes reluctant heroes do their part.
Blessed is the soul that makes its mission to protect,
Bless the heart that can stop its beating for self-respect.
Copyright ©
Gideon Oknin
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