Snow of ideals

I walked in a snow of ideals barefoot
The day fell into the arms of the night
My book under my arm, seeking my salvation
In the light that slanted on the luxury stores

I dropped a page in the snow I think
I think it was a poem, it contained my pain
It spoke of the purple arena that we call evening’s skies
Of the light whitening the benches and the bums

A black sheet was thrown over our day-bent backs
The stars flashed like misaligned neon lights
The snow disappeared in the bitter darkness
And my lips whispered this final prayer

I cried, and my tears traced your name in the snow
The boulevard haunted my eyes with its cold streetlights
God had disappeared into another megalopolis
I was afraid to lose you, I recited a prayer

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