All the world's ablaze,

Ravaged with unruly plague,

Ancient mother’s wrath,

Tearing us from familiar path,

The gouging towers, concrete skies,

Crumble before our summertime eyes,

Gilded in a nation’s tomb,

All the same from grave to womb,

But hope is a hunger, we must feed,

And courage tends to flourish in hours of need,

For we must scale icy peak,

Although all looks forsaken, all seems bleak,

We will descend from the biting snow,

And embrace in the valleys far below,

When on your sorrow you begin to choke,

When on your raft you struggle to stay afloat,

As boiling tides crash around your head,

And you fear your world has been left for dead,

In this age you must resolve to cope,

Call out to the future, to not lose hope.