Marko Milo

Prisoner of the night

By many, but few
Like the rest of us do

But too far away to be noticed

Possibly dead
But maybe alive
Weeps with warmth
Across the great divide

And sends a message

Through a layer of dust
Comes flickering light
Desperate for anyone
In this confusing night

But without a definite answer
Or a friend in sight

its faint echo, finally
Reaches the sand
And a pair of blue eyes
Grabs it by the hand

And cries:

“I know you exist,
Others are blind!
You are the same as many
Yet different from your kind”

But no answer from the light

For it might be alive
But most likely dead
Forged in the past
With ashen wings

Flies across the sky
In hope to save the present.