Burning House

The house across the street is burning
but there’s no smoke or fire
The world is being buried
by dark thoughts of tired minds

In this disorder
we try to find familiarity
I found a dead bird
among hurried feet
The ground collapses
Swallows us in melancholy

My identity
Your creation
My reality
Your imagination

Breathe me clues
I need constant fuel
While we reach for your hands
and set democracy on this land

Across the street,
a house is burning within


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