They

They are without vision

When they are rootless

They planned

To stretch themselves

Open, wounded, and vulnerable

Hollow people

Hoping without optimism 

A period of destruction

Troubled and poignant

Burning themselves alive

Without a single flame

Bleeding out 

Without a pulse

Leaning on one another

Without stability

For however long they must

Just another set of

Singing bones

Waiting for some kind of 

Inheritance 

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