Rumours

Rumours

A dim rows of stars wane across the vast horizon.

Underneath, the streets dimly glow,

The midnight wind spirals, gathering litter and leaves,

And with an updraft they disperse.

Scattering all over.


Faint outline of a figure,

Starved, malnourished.

A young boy.

He creeps along the side.


He slouches with a contorted spine,

Etched with lies and deceit,

Branded by signatures.

A captive. Tethered and rooted.


He croaks with his fissured lips crumbling,

Fading to the whispers,

Carrying a plague.


We've heard of them

We've never seen them or known them,

But that's what we've heard.

So it must be true.


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