Shapeshifter

HAMLØPEREN

On the border between dawn and day,
I once reached the horizon.
A hazy place where monsters hide,
I met one of them, he whispered:
“I was too young to get this damaged. “

A lonely monster, was once a sparrow,
A tiny bird lived a happy life.
Until somebody cut his wings off.
The fall was so painful.
Once wingless, the bird looses its mind.

A damaged bird turnes into a monster.
A hollow souleater,
Always aching,
Always starving
Always on the hunt.

I talked and talked to the bird monster.
And the time passed by.
By night, I have forgotten who I was,
The road home has vanished.

His pain became my pain.
My dreams sounded pointless,
And the hope seemed useless.
The monster ate all of it,
And I became as hollow,
And I grew a beak.

Now, monster keeps me by his side,
I am his secret keeper.
I know his worst mistakes,
I keep his deepest pains.
But my biggest secret is
that I know his weakness:

The monster avoids reflective surfaces,
The monster never reflects,
Cause the abyss in his eyes
would stare at him back from the beyond .
The monster never reflects,
The monster has matte eyes.

I wish I never wished to become painfree.
Each slash of breath cuts off my ties.
A lonely human and a happy monster,
Walk hand in hand, under the stormy sky.
A flashback thunderstorm flickers in my mind:

A violin melody, his voice;
A disturbing portrait, their faces.
A bitter taste of over-brewed tea,
Yellow pages of a letter soaked in tears,
Hopeful promises, spilled empty.

It was the bird monster´s turn to listen,
He laughed and showed me
How to deconstruct the melody with cawing.
And we sliced the silence into nothingness.

The monster showed me how to unsee the seen.
We have burned the portrait´s ugliness into flaming beauty.
And the monster blew the remaining ashes,
Far away, into nothingness.

On the border between dawn and day,
I once glued my scattered thoughts into a sparrow.
And I cut its wings, because I was lonely.
The sparrow turned into a wingless monster.

I kissed the monster and put him into sleep.
In his dreams he was flying,
And as the bird monster in me was sleeping,
My bloody hand has lulled another life into nothingness.