Give me a flower
For every year I died.
Make sure to place it
somewhere in the dust, out of the way.
Fire the shots to count
Every tear that I cried.
Remember the rage
We faced in years to come
Red rivers flow, drying
in the sun.
This is not our world
Ours has never been born.
Until that day, of the Golden Horn.
Soul of pain
buried just below the surface
remembering suns long ago
when I was alive.
A child.
For every year I died.
Make sure to place it
somewhere in the dust, out of the way.
Fire the shots to count
Every tear that I cried.
Remember the rage
We faced in years to come
Red rivers flow, drying
in the sun.
This is not our world
Ours has never been born.
Until that day, of the Golden Horn.
Soul of pain
buried just below the surface
remembering suns long ago
when I was alive.
A child.
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