I understand but so little of
a so very long story;
for it takes many life times
to even grasp a grain;
of generations runs,
but to also understand.
it is like a woman next to you
It is like a man next to you
and before us is a sword.
Would I then take what
is in front or behind
when to trust the sides
or what's not there:
neither of us truly can
but to open hands -
There was none in mine,
for I was born blind
I can not see so tell me
what was in yours ?
I can not hear you for
I was not spoken to.
I am not you - but I sleep
not below feet, but nor
would I take a sword for
outside there's many
more than five of us:
It is all porcelaine -
I am but a cup in hands
and you are in mine:
I really like the notes.
Like a Khan once said of it
It's not possible to rule
these lands for it's taken
by a thousand hands,
then you withdraw,
for they stand guard.
Yet my door it is unlocked
for whom to trust -
but the people outside it;
there's only here
and these spirits
which flows, ´ flows -;'-
I'm not taking a sword
I know which is which:
I'm like the front page
on what I didn't write
They want it so much.
',,'
But i'm so tight
and they're not thick enough
to the tightness,
like a treelog penetrating it
hammering it
because they can't control it
It's all a Shú -
,',
the absolute
disobedience and resistance
to overwhelming
force.
',
Was that straight or curved?
It was left on a shelf.
I'm not dishonourable to it.
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