When I bust my ghosts,
there is no one to call
My radiant will accomplishes:
look mom, look…
But only I see,
only I am here
I, fool to my exes,
exile to my freinds
Hunter-warrior,
on edge of society
I shall run the borders of this town,
declare myself protector
Say, ‘you don’t see…
but the Great God Pan lives’
And were I less selfish,
i would sleep on forest floor and be sacrifice to bears, mountain lions, rodents
Say, ‘now you see…
The great god Pan is dead’
For I am he,
satyr, martyr, brother, son, lover
I,
whose magic they do not see
Published by