and pages and pages.
That is our gold.
Beneath the deepest ink the gold white parchment. This city must be high to lift our prayers, rise, bring us home.
If this was once your home and it was all destroyed and you had been forced out had been dehumanized your sacred, weaponized leaving you alone
and yet some miracle because not all destroyed because what still remained was this one wall.
Had you been shattered foundations crumbled and then your city walls were crushed to sand to slide down mountainsides to fill the seaside shores and maybe line your steps to search for home
Had you been shattered
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