Blinded I that I am
blindfolded by God
Collected I Am
with the crippled and odd
rolling round in a case
which once held a soul
mine own was made base,
the deciever took toll
He pretended I saw,
and I a glass I
was blinded by awe
of a vision that my
philosopher sold me
I opened my I
and emptyness filled me
as I watched my god die
That blindfold, my cushion
protecting I Am
the buttons I'm pushin
that make me the ram.
I cling to my reason,
else everything's lost
but realities teasin
my fallacies cost
Doubtless thought I
that true sight sets us free
now I'm trapped and I cry,
but the box do I see
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem