Igor Wolfson (26/12/1989)
I am. Without.
This is the time, This is the place
This is the mind, this is a grace
An evil eye... In evils face
A bleeding scar, a fuzzy maze
And now what? Now is peace to taste
For all the wars that have been played
For all the sins that have been done
Now I am nothing, I'm undone.
A trace of silver, sparks of gold
A bald, a bold man and... I fold
A life of dust, a life of stone
For they have been, for they're gone.
I pass away, I'm dying out
To do, to be, to smite, to drown
You're nothing when you wear the crown
And I will prove it... Hear no sound.
Comments about this poem (I am. Without. by Igor Wolfson )
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