Black ink and sunbeams poetry

Hollow-eye
a generation,
lost between the lines,
claimed nothingness,
a raven atop the
lamppost

we,
who came before,
at the cusp, complicit,
wanting more than
the transient echos of
Sumer
plundered our own exile,

You,
beneath the twilight-sun
on the riverbed,
scraping the bottom
of the Euphrates,
stained as before,
with their sorrow