The Icelandic Canadian - 01.03.2005, Síða 38

124
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
Vol. 59 #3
Poetry
by Kurds Eyolfson
Skull now frozen in a log,
Face that somehow changes the fog
Take me in and spit me out,
Faces you can see without a doubt
Take me out on the fog in the night,
You can watch the two faces fight.
Hold my soul and you will see,
The face has got a hold of me.
In a circle surrounded by light,
My heart pumps full of fright.
Skin burns slowly away,
For this man it was his last day.
Tortured crowdedness awakes,
Sit in the circle of mistakes.
Your face touches me at the last,
Broken-hearted little outcast.
Faces, eyes deceive,
It is you that I believe.