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Conquest

"Courage cuts across routes seldom trod."




My pathway lies through worse than death;
I meet the hours with bated breath.
My red blood boils, my pulse thrill.
I live life running up a hill.

Ah, no, I need no paltry play
Of make-shift tilts for holiday:
For I was born against the tide
I must conquer thatt denied.

I shun no hardship, fear no foe;
The future calls and I must go:
I charge the line and date the spheres
As I go fighting down the years.


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