Illusionist Illusionist I was, but then to her I was the king of all sincerity, Although I clung, the stubbornest of burrs To my great share of anonymity. It was as if she were the very stars Whose distance lessened when I stretched my hand, And threw me into many inner wars Till only when she held me could I stand. When, in the end, we reached the final day, I watched her fall upon that nameless hill- The warmth of life, her spirit, blown away- Hers was a life that only love could kill. Now, left abandoned to the world of men, I wish I were "Illusionist" again. << go back Raemanzu's Home on the Web
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