Hostages
It's time to walk without our idols,
they are taking us away.

We have listened to the sky
but it's too late to go home.
There's no fate
in the crossings of stars,
no hope in red sky at night,
and smog represses memories
of sun-held futures.

The dead demand silence
when we should talk and work.
Nothing can ransom our dreams
and it's time to leave.