The trees are burning

We don’t deserve the desert moon

And the burning trees.

Too many words hurt our throats;

We can’t outrun our fears fast enough.

Our eyes are closed, ignoring the sun

Hiding in treasure chests.

The wind blows tears into clouds

Filling an ocean with salt.

We will never understand

That this is the end of our smiles.

Stars are the only dreams left

And we save ourselves in dark fields of burnt trees.

We don’t deserve the cleansing rain.

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