Intimate
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Whither and why are you harrowing my soul;
Is it a mystery not to be solved?
Concealment or fear? Incomprehension?
You feel scared. Is it the mystery tension?
Whether in hearts,or in your dreams you penetrate into the mind,
That is a mystery we have to find.
Absurd things are said about you, Or is it the naked truth?
Is it something hush hushed?
I feel impossible speaking of you,
But the tongue still repeats the transcription.
It’s due to mysterious things addiction.
Telling about yourself, neither out loud nor in your mind,
You are a diary not to be shared. That is a secret you are not to declare.
You pretend to be silly when you are asked about yourself,
You don’t seem to be willing to disclose the mystery of yourself
No conscience while bearing other people’s burden,
But there is some intention in you,
And something is hidden behind the curtain.
Other people cannot distinguish the truth from deception,
But have they known about you, the mystery would be a revelation.
For some people it is salvation, but for me – the humility incarnation,
You're my mystery representation
Why so restless are you?
When asked to leave you just for a moment,
You don’t give the mystery clue?
Eventually the day will come,
When I share you, mystery.
I will succumb.
And from that time
The mystery, intimate and dead,
Will not be only mine.
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