Guise

 

You have the liberty to exploit your father

Many don't have a father

You took on the disguise of his son

Are you his son?

We all have to go

Leaving behind traces of our existence

Our moving shadows

The figures we influenced,

The figures, who derive meaning from our existence

We all have borrowed clothes,

For playing various roles

At this stage show

We are all hollow

Our nakedness will not hurt us anymore

When we leave this world of borrowed

By then, 

We would have already returned the clothes brought on rent

To the magician, for whose magic 

We often came and went...