The Marked

You are touched and marked so
and now the nighttime glows
to those in darkness show
wherever it is you roam.

Your shoulder was just brushed
as through the town you rushed
and shook your hands at frowns
the flashing, flailing gowns.

You are one of us, the marked
one who is locked to show the dark,
a lonesome life apart
a better place to start.

Rest well and follow my dust
make way when the sun is rust
the marked line the walls
beyond which the big blue pools.

Ignore the staring eyes,
the thumping heart, it tries,
they mean well and elate
the marked, the lean, the fate.

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