Just when I thought I have to back down
and turn my head around...
I run to the light, and take flight.
In the playground where I pray,
On my knees to the ground
I listen to the beating sound
Of my heart, and many thousand others.
When the light touches me.
My shadow stretches far, so others will see
That I am divided.
Into bits and pieces
Of memoirs and insanity
But within me is a factory
Of what I want to be.
Like drying black roses
Imaginary and fictitious.
Who am I amongst the many?
Who are you amongst the few?
Who gets in me like screw
Nobody drives me, but myself.
So I move forward.
Playing with words, heedlessly
...and amongst the many
...or amongst the few
I will rise in this fight
In my blackest night.
