"Multitude of Soles"

A big giant gong appears in the square
With a poised rugged look
Like a blood-thirsty armoured tank.

The gong began to beat itself,
Soon feet began to gather
Quickly they turned into a marching army.

The din of their liberation cry
Was heard far and wide
Drowning every sense of serenity left.

The young and old,
The heroes past and heroes now,
Rage and fate ...

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