Burdened with the task,
to ask
my slender intellect:
Whether to roam free or
to hide behind a mask,
to resist or to follow
the vile pursuit of perfect?
Eyes wide open on a
chilly drizzling night,
I thought of everything
that could be different
on the fading brim of the
shallow, yellow light
of the grim life that
I've been a resident.
O you, the lucid and the
understood,
given as much a say (as
me) in this giant roll:
Tell me to what avail;
to what good
brings you the
ostracization of a soul?
Be what it may, the
cards have been dealt
of what exists, oh they
are, but not what could be felt.
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