Stand up
The Sun is coming
Borrow the cold density
Of Earth's skin
If you must
Where buried bones are strong
And tired flesh a frippery
Stone under dust  
Broken promises
Are not mortal injuries
Charon will expect no coin
The will will rise 
If you will it
Stand up
Gift the West your shade 
Once more again
The Sun will not wait
Nor the floor warm
For a tired heart
That quits
After the fall
Stand up

- S. Bechtold