| Some call me Satan, others have me God; |
| some name me Nemo… I am unborn. |
| Some speak of me in anagrams, |
| some grieve upon my wrath… |
| the ones who give me service |
| I grant my scorn. |
| My words are |
| 'Too late', 'Never', 'Impossible', and 'Gone'; |
| my home is in the sunset and the dawn. |
| My Name is locked in silence, |
| sometimes it’s whispered out of spite. |
| All gates are locked, |
| all doors are barred and bolted, |
| there is no place for flight. |
| Will you not come to me and love me for one more night? |
| Some see me shining, others have me dull; |
| gun-metal and cut diamond -I am ALL. |
| Some swear they see me weeping |
| in the poppy-fields of France… |
| in the tumbling of the dice see them fall! |
| Some laugh and see me laughing |
| down the corridors of power: |
| some see my sign on Caesar and his pall. |
| My face is robed in darkness, |
| sometimes you glimpse me in the shade, |
| All friends have gone, |
| all calls are weak and wasted, |
| there is no more to say. |
| Will you not crawl to me and love me for one more day? |
| Some wish me empty, others will me full, |
| some crave of me infinity — I am NONE. |
| Some look for me in symbols, |
| some trace my line in stars, |
| some count my ways in numbers: |
| I am No One. |
| Some chronicle my movements, |
| my colours and my clothes, |
| some trace the work in progress |
| — it is done. |
| My soul is cast in crystal |
| yet unrevealed beneath the knife. |
| All wells are dry, all bread is masked in fungus |
| and now disease is rife. |
| Will you not run from this |
| and love me for one more life? |