Nieznany

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What a gift it is to be unknown,
invisible amongst the masses,
toiling away at something which,
though unknown, exists.

What a gift it is
to come from the unknown,
blackened by no shadow,
with nothing to outshine
but the sun.

For to carry mighty,
golden blood- or to be
born of it- eats away at
certainty, compelling one to
relinquish oneself…

Call it Cancer- as some see fit
to do – which infects the ego,
multiplying it until, inevitably,
we are undone.

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