"Записки Безымянного [поэзия]" - читать интересную книгу автора (Лайтбрингер Тимонг)

Не первый, не последний

One always speaks about self Whether through action or just barf, But words may too have sort of price - They serve as tools for those who’re wise. Who am I then to speak of me ? From pain of past it makes you free, So now I'm throwing it aboard - My truly useless, bloody world. I may be warm, I may be cold, I am both fearful and bold, For some I'm moon, for others sun, From both I'm always in the run. I am quite normal and still mad, I am both happy and both sad, And during life's entire span I will be known as no-one. And I can fight, and I can hide, I'm still so weak ... and full of might, I'm own master, own pet, Is it just good, is it so bad ? I am both known and unnamed, Inside I'm wild, but act like tamed, I am always free and yet enslaved, I'm used to speak the truth and raved. In times I'm kind, sometimes fierce, I was born there - and from stars, I am, like others, one of a kind, I'm often wrong, sometimes I'm right. If I had time I would but try To find the means to soar for sky, But first I have to reach just me - This kind of knowledge makes one's free. Of what I am, and who I was - I'll have to answer to all those Silented questions of my past ... I am not first, I am not last.