I am an eye that see myself like an iceberg hidden behind my identity
An identical copy trying to identify an ideal icon free from ideology
Generating ideas to be an iconoclast but vanishing within selfish idolise
And idiotically stating that I am different, an irony that you can only itemise
This entry was posted
on Wednesday, March 25th, 2009 at 2:45 am and is filed under Featured, Literature, Mongolian Poetry.
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