It is an endless night and I dream that
my city is gasping for air; it is
suffocating. With it's insincere matte
building bearing their receptive windows.
To look inside? -- there is a victim at
the mercy of a charming host. They both
make gestures that reflect lamenting. Neat,
vivid room, but their faces veiled from truth.
One could linger at this window to glimpse
the shadows the moon will cast through it's frame.
A versifier may warn you to muse
elsewhere. You may regret learning these names.
When I stood at the ledge and tried to see
I learned that one of the figures was me.
-By Thomas "Donavue" Soto
my city is gasping for air; it is
suffocating. With it's insincere matte
building bearing their receptive windows.
To look inside? -- there is a victim at
the mercy of a charming host. They both
make gestures that reflect lamenting. Neat,
vivid room, but their faces veiled from truth.
One could linger at this window to glimpse
the shadows the moon will cast through it's frame.
A versifier may warn you to muse
elsewhere. You may regret learning these names.
When I stood at the ledge and tried to see
I learned that one of the figures was me.
-By Thomas "Donavue" Soto
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