Your sun sets on a gaudy stage
The moon rises a lantern
To reflect my rage.
History hidden untouched
Unknown and unseen
By citizen-thieves of a kingdom deprived.
Bourne on tired chromatic wings
Born empty, child of silver,
Aborted dream
Of the deified Dreamer.
You call from a shallow grave
That once was a crib
To a legacy without inheritance,
To a lie surrounded in dust.
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