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Ditch depth dug wrinkles
 
on my face, rolling pearls in rows
 
Hide me behind half-blind shutters
 
You see me wrapped up in smoke
At me you stare at empty space
 
Placard-lonely myself stands up on the stage
 
I wish nor the good neither the sacred,
 
I wish nor the light neither the hatred.
 
Now above all I learn I got
 
to be a single doomed of the lot
 
Crawling upwards on my own branches.
 
For I laugh at them heartily
 
at my treasures and vanity,
 
When my wrinkles are dug to trenches.
At me you stare at empty space
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Last updated: March 13, 2010
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