What could be thy uniqueness?
Thy fluffy bearded countenance
For whenst must I count penance
The years, the years they seem less….
Form and memory, mist and soul
Truth be put out, beware, they had a role
Quit I did, my high horse, thence
As did sorrow, lost all my pretense…
Came at me, why did you, with a sword,
To loot and plunder my pirate’s hoard
A treasure trove of memories, my gold
And jewels of days spent happily of old…
O High Father, must you, must you steal?
These last few wisps of my sanity?
Like scraps to dogs, from the tables, reveal
Reveal, Lord, what became of my vanity…
Aigis Nalian 