Egocripta

Here I am...
in the city where rust floats
suffering from the hysteria of history
on the gallows of my vanity
Who are you?
showing your golden tooth to people
confusing the most insolent
celebrating in a special way
you are the mirror of my vanities
you are the half that turns against me
someone blurry, I don't think of anyone
where I start, you finish
I hear your voice...
it's the calvary of ancient men
writhing confined in their tombs
like the worm in its chrysalis
I know you well...
you enjoyed all my bitter renunciations
you promised me relief and led me
to succumb to the desire to implode
you are the mirror of my vanities
you are the half that turns against me
someone blurry, I don't think of anyone
where I start, you finish
and I wonder who you are, who you are, who you are...