False Bard
Made by mistakes and chaos
Born as rust scraps not heroes
Thrown darts are stray bullets that escape its shells
Everybody is too busy to point at everybody else
If you're ever in trouble, just call that daft
To this land of nothing, the grave of crafts
He who reach the edge of guilt, he's the late hero
He who have the sense of gray, he's the fraud hero
Pandora's box keep his ears hold the sins
Along with the mirror of Medusa
His story is his one only weapon
He's afraid he's not getting anywhere
He introduced himself as the odd hitter
In his ears blast the demon core
Wait for the collision to make a blast
Declaring his explosive, he's not a bust
The giraffe gets so tall they forgot how to hold their stand
The tiger gets so fierce they forgot where were their tracks
If life is a game of runs and jumps then who's the stepper?
Blow the horn, he don't have much time left
Live up to his name, it's the elephant's foot
Goodbye the day after tomorrow, he's the elephant's foot
--Ulrich Bahn, 2/2/2024
Theme : Self, Others -- Angst