the dreamers
will find themselves beset by
beasts with no names of their own
they'll be battered and bloodied
left on their backs like grasshoppers after a breeze
these dreamers
will feel agony
cold and sober on their neck
but their eyes
still stare upwards
and heavens and earths and stars
trade spots but never lose purpose
and with the winds of hope in their ears
drowning out fears that come in low tones
these dreamers rise
to pluck the colors
from the rainbow of their soul
and paint futures brighter than those before them.
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