Of a Performer

who drew it, the dried stream
like all the happiness that was just a dream
ah, that pair has faded, wanted no more
charm in the rest will ever galore

who drew it, the arched backs
with all eloquence the world lacks
ah, the tips had dried and broke
meaningless, warmth from a distant smoke

who drew it, the tired hand
with tales of all pain they withstand
ah,the ones that wiped the rain
like counting the seeds when none remain

who drew it,faces on the wall
reminiscence of a scared infant’s crawl
ah, on which the lines dissolved, soon and slow
like an unknown river continued to flow

who drew it, I asked for days
but none even tried to trace
ah,the pair that never was
more than nothing under the claws

who drew it I finally found
his laugh was sewed and feelings unbound
ah,the pair too was now drying
a star still burning, gradual dying


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