Look,
Look at,
Look into that blind man
In his eyes there shines not a light
His looks-empty-cold-inside
Forehead sweaty, glistening white
There beyond: images of fright-
his veiled vitality.
Who says he might (or might not)
Run away when he can
Escape his fate, this fatal ban-
yes, nature's cruel.
Who said that again?
He, himself
-if only he could speak
not solely had to think
knew not about his end-
My poor conscious-struck snow man.
__________________
"Der Messias wird erst kommen, wenn er nicht mehr nötig sein wird."
(Franz Kafka)
