Still I Dream

With these soft eyes,

I turn to the angry mob

and I speak.

I tell them to leave me be.

I tell them I want no part

in the way they raise their swords

and bring each other down.

I ask them to spare me their daggers.

They will not understand my requests.

They will see my silver sky and call it grey.

Still, I hope.

Still, I dream of a new day.