I hath stepped on old footprints
fitted mine feet to each
I hath walked on soft pavements
to ascript all mine beseech
I was a soloer in this game
- faced mine enemies alone
yet my sword has power
none hath ever seen,
I was then yclept a monster
(words do hurt) .
I hath worn weak masks,
blew wind to my prints in dust
To build a bridge betwixt us
yet thy deeds- I'm an outcast!
If to step out of the shadow I casted
was to bring chills on thy heart
and if it is to bring fright in thy soul
as to keep me from thee apart
shalt I rise on the waxing moon's call?
- to cause this bridges' fall!
or should I agonize mine reality?
and conceal mineself through a mystery?
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