Under a blackened sky
far beyond the glaring streetlights
sleeping on empty dreams
the vultures lie in wait
You lay down beside me then
you were with me every waking hour
so close I could feel your breath
When all we wanted was the dream
to have and to hold that precious little thing
like every generation yields
the new born hope unjaded by their years
Pressed up against the glass
yields
years
found
myself
every
empty
again
sleeping
dream
inherently
precious
consumed
appease
glaring
state
could
close
generation
little
dreams
beyond
blackened
under
forbidden
there
offered
beside
vultures
breath
given
sympathy
blindness
streetlights
glass
leave
light
death
newborn
receive
anyone
their
thing
waking
would
pressed
wanted
against
wanting
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