Not even the Gods knowThere was a bet between Azura, the queen of dusk and dawn, and Sheogorath, the Daedric prince of madness - the unpredictable Sheogorath claimed provocatively: "Command one human disciple of yours to live in absolute isolation and solitude for the rest of their life - he's going to be madly insane, chew his fingers off his hands and declare them his friends!" The high goddess however, announced gracefully: "In strict meditation my human apprentice will spend his whole life in absolute isolation and solitude without even showing a sign of insanity or madness!" Thus spoke Azura, and thus it happened - her disciple spent his whole life in absolute isolation and solitude, but he was no longer human.Not even the Gods know by Saltario
Her StoryShe told me her storyHer Story by Saltario
And I wouldn't close my eyes:
She feels like she could have filled a river with her cries.
She told me her story
And I would listen:
She prays for the sun to go down when she has risen.
She lays in her bed and fears the day,
Fears them all and what they're gonna say.
The clock does just not tick fast enough,
She always thought that she was tough:
Prepared for the merciless world outside,
Prepared for the horrors that haunt her at night -
To be the dangerous monster and beast
She expected her own kind the least.
Don't worry: she's alive,
That's why she told me her story.
Don't ever think that this is fun -
It could happen to anyone.
She just needed to vent some steam,
Nobody would hear her desperate scream.
Telling her story is not done yet:
She can't get those voices out of her head.
You ask: 'what is it she fears?' -
It's all the mean words she hears.
From all the things that can kill you in life:
Mean words - sharp as a knife.
She would then always show her fake
All Those Words'Whore, bitch, worthless, frog face, fat cow!'All Those Words by Saltario
Every swearword suits me now.
'She's dumb, ugly, weird - just be hurt!'
You wouldn't believe what I have heard!
'You know: you're a waste of space!'
It's like a punch right in my face.
'You are better off dead!'
It goes like a bullet through my head.
How do they find all those words?
So creative - so destructive.
I am surprised how much it hurts -
What have I done to deserve this?
Ein Mann wandelt auf einsamen Pfaden:|
Ihm ist, als wandle er auf spitzen Nadeln;
Der Wind peitscht ihm grob in's Gesicht -
Die Last auf seinen Schultern spürt er nicht.
Mit jedem Schritte, den er geht,
Wird seine Spur im Staube verweht.
Hätte er sich selbst zu beschreiben -
Er würde zu Bescheidenheit neigen.
Er kennt sein Ziel, er weiß wohin,
Er weiß nur nicht, wie lang';
Umkehren kommt ihm nicht in den Sinn:
Er verspürt stets diesen Drang.
Wie lange wird dieser Mann noch wandeln?
Wie lange mit sich selbst verhandeln?
Ist das Ziel es wert, zu laufen?
Oder ist noch mehr da draußen?
Viele Fragen, nur ein Weg -
Als laufe man auf einem Steg:
Am Ende findet man das Glück,
Doch der Weg führt nicht zurück.