Who am I?
I saw the suns go down on me,
Gazed into a blank sky
and found pain and death.
Who am I?
Why am I here?
What can I say?
Wandered deserts of burning ashes,
Melted in passion, loved and yiffed.
Went to the other end of the world
and came back.
I looked into the black gorges of my soul.
Played devil, played angel,
Removed mask after mask from my face,
but never I found me beneath.
Who am I?
Why am I here?
Who could tell?
Hating my body,
Despising my weakness,
looking for that something more
I should be supposed to be.
And finding nothing but vanity.
Who am I?
Am I?
What is I?
After all is said and done
only one's for sure:
The great deeds of our lives
they won't have any importance.
As everything's for nothing
in the end.
So why am I searching at all?
And why don't I stop?
Aug-12-04
-Pilgrim
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