Ozymandias

A Poem by Markus Wolfe

A personal re-write of the poem Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley. This poem is about my life as an actor and how I sometimes lose myself in the characters I play.

I once met a man from distant lands,

He had travelled across seas and plains,

There was no forest or mountain

On which he had not set foot.

He told me of a place Oh so great,

Where the line between earth and sky,

Was but a faraway memory,

The air was thick of sand and stories

The wind was but the silent chatter of the crowd

And when rain there was, you would hear

If so lucky you would be,

Only the resounding sound of cheers.

And in the middle of this stage of void,

Two great pillars of concrete,

Remains of once a great abode,

Marked by time, and the violence of life.

Statues of faceless men, beat and wrought,

Paintings of men and women with torn-off heads,

And for a long time he searched,

For the one about whom they were made,

But not a single soul was to be seen.

As he climbed the steps of the tallest tower,

Every step more difficult than the last,

He got to a study with doors of iron,

And a view as far as eye can see.

Instead of a desk, stood a lonely stone

And on the grave these words appear:

"My name was never the same, burden of actors,

Look at my lives ye mighty,

And remember"

© 2022 Markus Wolfe

Author's Note

This poem was written by me about me (so no rating on this one), but I know that I cannot be the only one who feels this way. Even without being an actor, some people wear masks everyday to fit in, because they feel protected by it and in the end, they start to forget who they really are.
If this is your case, don't forget to be yourself from time to time, find something that makes you feel like you and do it. Don't fall into the trap of living for others because at the end of the day, the only person who is always going to be there for you, is you.

"And on the pedestal these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings,
Look on my works ye mighty
And despair."
-Percy Bysshe Shelley-

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Carlos Lorenzo Estrada

Whenever I think about the masks we wear to fool others or pretend about being something we are not I'm reminded of that old Billy Joel song "The Stranger". That speaks so eloquently about this subject. This is a good and deep thoughtful poem Markus. Thank you for sharing your work.