Mind

The working mind
seems conspicuously alive
gentle, yet so much betrayal

For a mind
and for a slight piece of my soul
I gave it away

Anyone could have it
I freely divulged my secrets
and understood fierce consequences

I wanted a divorce
and realized in a perfect moment
my fragile unity

One, it is
a unit
complete as it is

Though so horrible
my mind
and its strange fragility

The master at the other end
took me to such places
undescribed

I witnessed the angels secret work
and the smell of these flowers
and my body made of dust

So incomplete
and so weak
what else do you want from me?

About Emil Hjort

Writer, poet and mysticist.
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