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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