We pray for blue and empty skies,
Free of clouds and promises of rain.
We pray for skies so empty and pure
Devoid of gods and shadow dreams.
We pray, even if it means a drought,
For empty skies where no one flies.
We pray for an end to occupation
And the terrible ways you aid us.
We pray for the freedom to do and die.
We pray for the return of hurt and pain,
For a reality not to bound and sure,
We pray for things to be what they mean;
for a world where things can be bought
And the sun is not pulled through the sky
And you looking from your high station
Reborn again on Mount Olympus.
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