fast away,

into the dark night,

drive away,

out of the world,

of fears, and tears,

trials, and errors,

never come back.

Come back,

only for the solace of a bygone world,

where you could catch love,

like the breeze catches dust,

blow it into your face.

We are done, I say,

with the same beginnings,

the same paragraphs in open newspapers,

the monotonous softness of headlines.

I want the revolutions, the activism,

of a bygone era,

where every life,

other than your own,



2 thoughts on “Revolution

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