There was only one choice to make, really:

Not letting him.

Neither dance or win ;

Let him the skin

Intact.

Not yet.

At his feet, three drops of blood.

He tramples, wipes his mouth

And savours the moment.

“So that’s what mortals are like?

Invincible, they say,

Yet secretly giving themselves away?”

I know he exists only in my dreams,

That he is just an echo that follows me.

Neither at night nor in the streets

A shadow can be real.

But I am his musician.

When he says: “Play me a tune”

I must answer: “Give me a reason to live, my love”

Every time I saw him happy,

I wanted to kill myself

On the inside, I swear

He was more alive than I was.

That, I couldn’t bear.

One day, gone inside.

Something had broken in my mind.

I sat on his lap,

He said: “Play me a tune”

And I smiled.

He got scared.

I escaped

The day that, still chained,

In the name of freedom,

I started tapping with the tip of my foot

My own rhythm. —