The self-strong voices
heard again and again
sleepwalking dead lost
flying images and streetlights
at every single rage
letting freedom ring
patterned bursts accustomed to
saying tales out loud
until the pages turn
one more than all listening
with gods and guardians
seeing versions of truth
on the walls of their tiny planet
many versions of truth
and faith in themselves
having voiced others off
done for a dream
revenge for the unknown
no gifts for homeless avatars
only audiences in the sun
we bow aside your ways
for in the self-same message
the context can't be had.