She sees ahead an equal race...
She sees ahead common grace...
She sees things in a changing phase...
She sees beyond the dry daze...
They see her and ignore,
Then, they show her the damned door.
The tell her that her zeal will eventually go sore!
Was she asking for much more?
Utopia it is, she began to believe!
Shock and trauma she did receive!
From here, would she leave?
Or, would she spread and grieve?
She remembers the freshness of the air,
She remembers how her ideals never brought her despair.
She remembers how twas for her about spirits, thought and dare!
So was grieving after all just and fair?
Then the mind was inspired.
Hope had conspired!
Zeal and courage reined once again and fired...
She walked again, ideals in her hadn't retired!
That's the end of this story,
Sure, there's no glory!