After the death of the gods
I immerse myself in the pages of prayers
in search of redemption.
Silently I whisper the word of the Lord
as if floating to perch in a deaf crowd.

The town is on the street
with a song of hope.
I hear the artifice of the fires
of those who wear military uniforms.

People do their job
rusty in the silhouette of the shadow.
This is my blood
It is the response of a nation.

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