Aspex Pallay

Aspex Pallay This is not about me.

This about the person I am plAying.
my history, my pain. Do you identify

Do you feel you can portray my existence
It's a hard task. Too many assumptions.
Even with what's read. Have i conveyed

my feelings without my soul stolen

in your translation

 

Do you get it? When they scream at night

alone; lost in that vacuous darkness.
When they first saw a glimmer of light,
like a star in the corner - in a cupboard

of my soul

 

How can we dare How can we steal them so
Can others see me, then so, I see them
Will they only see me: my drama Or will

my cries reach out; touch their minds;

their hearts

 

Why so Why so important that they do
It’s me seeing them, as I see them.

It's too much. Yet, so much not to do.
Albeit preAching. Yes, it's preaching.

So wherefor the spirit Where the spirit be,
so that others may learn not Presumption.

It’s a pointless task.

Only those with their own can see their own.
Yet, perhaps, we may get a glimmer,
a glimpse A feeling, a sense, then be glad

it joins our own

So it ripples. Ripples. This Aspex may change

as it’s always done. Slowly. O so slowly

it pains me so. I know my ego hastens me.
It seeks me to change things fast... So fast...

so counter productive. In my haste I destroy

the very thing I need to see.