He smelled like earth
and worn out pages
of leather bound books
and his eyes
reminded me of
desert flowers feeding
off the sun that
burned inside him.

We do what we do for you

they said.

So, they beat our voices and silenced our actions.

It’s for you,

they said.

For you.

They say that when the sun dies the world will be over.
No more light.
No more warmth.
No more hope.
We will be no more.

I think they're right.
Because I know what it's like to lose
your light
your warmth
your hope.
I know what it's like to lose the sun.
We are no more.