Screams babies are wasted

the mountain quietly gave up the wind down to the city, stretching all despair, forcing the body away leaving a dream

wipe the dew lightly bring the dew, fade one with the air, take the city is almost dead this

the wasted cry of wasted babies
the crying cry of a misled baby

soe once said,
"we are different in all but in love"

I add,
"love .... then also religion"

on sunglasses to HUMANS all look the same

bastards and scholars
people and rulers
even,
demons and humans

you and I remain different
Do you want to trace the space of time? to find the pieces and pieces that might know we can glue together and whole

you and I remain different
if I met him I might ask

"May I blend with your creation .... but he is not your servant"