You may spill your secrets Like the beads of the amulet necklace And I pick them up submitting to what I know Is purpose since before the dawn of separateness I am a gypsy, the healer, I see beyond what you know Beyond rational I feel with precision The gift of insight from beyond The power that spills over I am yet to learn how to hold It's reigns Of my own eyes that strike and scare As a judgement you would write above Your own grave You are a lost soul Who seek answers in me I get lost under this projected weight But at the bottom of your eyes I find the answer To my purpose and I know your essence Better than I know mine - the tormenting question mark of it And I can only find peace if I give you What universe wants to give So free the illusion I am not here to romance But to serve my purpose Which I doubt but cannot deny And until it is fulfilled I am filled to the brim With unknown
Something from my last meeting with my friend Babalawoi. He also told me I was a killer. Well, that's for a separate poem