After They Buried the Sun
Walk, said the shadow.
A gun swallowed me.
We were sold the way we sell it.
Shining metals, nice as girls.
Fly, said some liars.
Freedom’s stolen tree.
Where hanged a kid.
How there my black page aches.
So make my bones its stories.
For the sky is a dream of hammers.
And their dust became a god.
Whose stars will wreck the dead.
Walk, said the report.
I was a man named Never.
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