The webbing of my self control
Is bursting apart
Breaking down the disguise
Of my life
Unshakeable equanimity
Hardheaded pragmatism
Now a Mobius Strip of uncertainty
An endless comedy of behaviours
Provided for the entertainment
Of the gods
I wait in the wings
For the hero to appear to save me
But at the worst possible moment
I find there is no hero
--Only me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The realisation of reality isn't always pleasant is it? However, if we have reached this point, at least we have the option to change things. Love Gyp's