By: Fredrik Zander
I can’t remember the name of the game;
I just remember to wear and to bear
In someone else’s name.
To see apart from a point of view,
Try develop a photograph
For someone old and new.
Holy waters, stones unturned,
Ancient quarters, bones unburned.
I just came in by the door one day,
Leaving all of your guild astray
Alas I hide in an ocean of pain.
The antidote’s like a wasted wine;
Tries its best not to intertwine
A hologram in a world I smear.