We keep fighting to transform evil into good not because we have any choice, but because we have no choice.

We fight through the night and the darkness with light not because we fancy it but because all other means lead to despair.

We hold the banner of hope not because we have by our utmost reached it, but because we desperately seek it and hold to it.

...

"There is no light" whispers the night and our bowels answer "there is no hope"...
Our memory is our accuser and our hearts have no redeemer..

Who will cast life to the dead and laughter to the one that has been torn apart?
We hold on the banner of HOPE high; it is what we can do. Yet beyond our strengths, beyond our nature it persists, YES a banner that is born of our death and is therefore not of us. Cast away it was and is, yet it higher waves above our corpses because in us it cannot be found. Look above, raise your brow, there beyond death you will see it as vivid as the pain you now feel.