# Off-Topic Discussion > Artists' Corner >  >  Trans Finale

## Phion

I hear them call my name at night,
Those free ones
Who walk along concrete paths outside
Amidst Autumns breast.

Light rays cast a sanguine torment 
Through these barred windows
As I stand, elbows placed with a slump
Along this familiar sill,
Cold and bare, scratched with fingernail graffiti
Like so many others and called this place home.

Trouble brought us here,
Surrounded by reflections,
Mirrors of bygone sin;
Shone: a glaring disfigurement of this precarious condition
Somewhere to walk to would be nice (in quiet peace).

I hear them call my name 
When the stars fade into sight, 
Its a moonless cascade
Shared, together, whilst smirking at patience, 
Blithe and listless, but
Somehow not as bleak as before 
From the inside-out.

Staring across the courtyard,
I hear them call my name
From the other side of that fountain out there;
Diaspora for the Just, beckoning
Pollination of finite chances, for
Ill brandish Desire and become infected, nay
Invested in a swarming caress.

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