Monday, October 11, 2004

Nothing but the Performer

Sitting alone by the window, I look out.
Watching people come and go
Knowing nothing that inspire their hearts,
Their deeds, their desires and their end.

How foolish I was it seems
Wanting, desiring selfish deeds
For no matter how beautiful
How elegant they might be

The truth as always strikes true
Cleanly slashing through the veils of self deceit
For no matter how painful it reveals
We are but shadows that perform.

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