Borrowed worlds, borrowed lives

I have sights to show you,

Through eyes that never grow old

I have a roaring campfire

Made of woods that never get cold


I have been to everywhere that exists

And also to places that never really did

Often, I’ve been someone new,

But that who was always lost in transit


I have memories of lives I’ve never lived

Like the light from a star now long dead

I’ve scars from battles I’ve never fought

Imagined wounds, bleeding real red


I have had great loves, and even greater losses

Whose names I never really knew

I’ve lived in many a different world

In many ways the same, in some ways new


I’ve died, and then lived, only to die again

I’ve squandered lifetimes, and some, I’ve reclaimed

I’ve been a shadow, a ghost, a drop of pouring rain

I’ve been everywhere, at once, yet static I’ve stayed


I have words to tell you,

With meanings both new and old

I’ve tales with which to regale you

With plots that will never grow cold


Because, I’m the storyteller,

And I shall always be a part of what I unfold



3 thoughts on “Borrowed worlds, borrowed lives

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