Introvert Narcissism Poem by Robert Mutsaers

So there you show,
on a wailing goat at bliss,
now the graves and cord,
plight stand-up to be borne...

I gathered my life,
from the streets,
with dark corners so,
forgotten and strife,
have simple meaning,
when I am the only one there...

So cast and experiment,
translate the soul of thought,
but without a lie, the one that may,
exclude a purpose or truth...

Now here you go,
on your sailing boat of risk,
so the waves of the Lord,
might end up as my own...

I blessed my wife,
from the streets,
with sharp borders so,
begotten and strive,
have little grieving,
when I am the only one there...

So draft and excitement,
prorogue the claim of God,
but without a spy, a one that sees,
a prude a purpose of truth..