The wind does not blow
The trees, bare
The sun does not shine
In the dreams of the forgotten people
The song of the lonely child
is not heard by anyone
His voice breaks, he cries
Lost in the world of damaged dreamers
Their cities in ruin, histories erased
The people wander, unseen
Through pathways of the mind
Forsaking their bodies for a new Heaven
The child calls, waits, cries
There is no answer from the hall of still bodies
His hazel eyes have long since lost the dreamers
Only his belly urges him into the world
The wolves have adopted him, silent cub
He prefers fruit,
And lives with the bodies of his departed people
Wasting away in the night of dream















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