Start shouting at the world where you belong.
It is time.
Have the revolutionaries run off?
They are in hindsight. The mercenaries.
Were you there?
When they bloomed.
Shining from the sun.
The age when everyone was young.
Realising the purpose in the sky.
Still unfound.
No one knows.
Nobody sees.
That the haze has vanished.
Fly by.
Run through.
It's now.
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