Of kryptonite and sunsets

Dreams are kryptonite sometimes..  a sort of cryptic message, which can only come from you. And yet, and yet, you’ve taught me every time never to believe you. It’s that illusion no one sees coming. It is the dawn. Is it the sunset? I’m not sure. My history with you is empty. My history with…

Peace, one of a kind.

These empty streets you see are not what I see. But what is History? What is a people? And what, I ask you, is a state? Empty streets are just an illusion. In peace, it is early. In war, it is danger. What History has told us is always the truth. Sometimes, it is but…