sábado, 26 de março de 2011
Now, I presume you are not the least curious to read this poem. 'Tis about that same person, from long ago, and was written in 2004. Long time ago, indeed. Still, I sometimes remember some of its verses; for truly it is one of my most honest expressions of the feelings I did not know how to deal with. Never has this work seen the light of day; and perchance is should be left in the shades forever, lest it bring sadness to someone, for sadness was never its objective. In any case, here it is. One of the greatest expressions of my despair and grief of old...
Fall - 11 november 2004
A critical failure or a success?
How can we know, without the dice?
A shattered sword, a fatal blast,
The fire breaking throught the ice...
This life - 'tis just like RPG;
We're players, led by a game master.
His evil plans we cannot see,
We only try to fight disaster.
Yes, we can win; his plans are strange.
He tests us, tries to make us fail;
He oft' succeeds; yet, even failing
Perchance we are success attaining.
Stand still, don't act - your fate is sealed,
A fearful soldier will die.
Remember - games have rules we don't feel,
And act, and fight, try to survive...
II. Mortal scum
A mortal scum that walks on Earth,
A fragile mind, a worthless soul,
A man of deeds and no importance,
A useful nothing - useful slave.
Slave to the world, slave to his love,
Immortal love, the curse eternal.
A fatal blast comes from above,
Destroys the mind and soul of Mortal.
And yet... Destruction often means rebirth,
Rebirth and learning from experience...
I miss her, DAMN!... yet from now forth
My faith is far beyond deliverance...
I cannot trust, I can't believe -
And yet I want to... dice forsaken...
who threw them? Oh, be blessed thee...
For for some turns there's been no failures...
I cannot win this fight alone!
Where's the support that's been expected?!!
After the final strike - alone;
A try to call for help - defeated...
The Sword Eternal - art thou broken?
Hast thou abandoned me? Oh, yeah...
The balrog's wings, the cries of orcs...
The choirs were vast, but now they're mute...
A ray of faith still shines inside me;
"There is no spoon", as Neo said.
There must have been a reason, likely;
Or maybe blindness... other's death...
Perchance indifference, hypocrisy -
But nay, not she... or maybe aye...
Nay, NAY! I won't believe it, mortal!
I'm, stronger... weaker... weaker... ...
I cannot win without support!!!
The armors fails, the spear is broken.
A mortal scum that walks on Earth.
Misleading visions and illusions...
Abandoned... passiveness, betrayal.
Betrayal mustn't active be.
I trusted you!!! Believed!!! gaddammit...
Oh, are you blind or cannot see...?
I'm nothing! NOTHING!... it says everything...
Importance zero, nothing else...
A useful and convenient mortal -
And that is all. Farewell? - we'll see...