There is a point,
From which there is no return;
Past hearts shall break,
And friendships will burn.

The box is open;
All evils have sprung
To prey upon the joyful,
To corrupt the young.

Hands grasping for that
Which has been lost.
Blood slathered, they slip,
Paying the cost,
Yet they go on.

Despite rules unwritten,
In spite of the fear.
Even thought they've been bitten
By the Beast of Seven,
And more beneath.

They see past the wars,
They power through griefs;
Continuing to struggle,
For grace they cope.

They are everyday heroes;
They are our hope.