Voice from a long time ago.

I look back at all the faded images
that must be someone else
a hand to the sun

words do not know me now
I have left my mind behind
rolling in the dust

spaces that never cease to exist
in the imaginary
light pours forth to blind

highlight the unknown stranger
that distant other person
scorned by truth impure

wake from this place immortal
the skies cry not for who I am
I have become darker

there in pristine preservation
the source of my bitterness
sweetened only by a vision from within

defined with the pigment of the soul
on the canvas of the consciousness
burning into the night

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