If the galaxy is designed by
      The ornate music of cruelty, 
    Then justice is a helpless cry of melancholy.
       What keeps us warm at night?
       To enhance us a Lester cry for tomorrow... 
Will be chained 
In the galaxy by the forgettable wind.
         Fear will be our guide.
Instead of
"Our dear hope"- what is supposed to be 
Our warm cover in the night.
     When it was soft but our strongest will.
  Is now. "Noway to be found."
When...