I rest my head on my pillow
And I hear the footfalls of God
In the beating of my restless heart.

I walk the path of this nameless city
Old, effete, fictitious
I lean on the bridge
To see another me, obscure and gray
Just a non-person, more assumed
Than the heart of hearts.

I grow beyond the point of words and deeds
The madmen and the greatmen
Of the civilization buried and throbbing
I palpitate as if the unreal demon
And lay awake for the promised coming.


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