Food, music,
the taste of fresh water
on a long-parched tongue;
these are what I desire
for this is what I deserve.
I deserve to be quenched
as if I am thirst, fed
as if I were born to be hunger
and sung as if I were anthem
and hymn at once.
Ridiculous, you say,
that I’d long to give up
humanity for such simple
satisfactions as these. But
hear what I’m telling you;
this is how revolutions begin.
Dark Matter 
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