Dai Stihó

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;

One last time,
and may they remember
our hoarse voices,
our grinning facades,
our fierce charge into the unknown, banners held high.

Let them say that
boldly we rode and well,
into the jaws of death,
into the mouth of Hell.

Let us not go gentle into that good night.
We shall rage, rage against the dying of the light.

But when it is over,
When we are once more scattered to the four winds,
When nothing beside remains, round the decay
Of this colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
When the lone and level sands stretch far away

Remember this -- only this and nothing more:

We'll always have Idol.

-

With thanks to Shakespeare, Lord Tennyson, Dylan Thomas, Percy Shelley, and Edgar Allen Poe.