Faces and Names

I'm feeling particularly poetic aajkal for some godforesaken reason.
Here goes the next poem then (hopefully won't be a torture):


In the nights, someone calls out to me,
I shout ‘Hark!’ Who may you be?
The face is new, the name is old;
And I am left standing, cold!

The gates open, memories flood in,
I’m moving on, is looking back a sin?
Why do past and present entangle;
Do complicate matters, my mind they mangle!

The shadows chase me, calling out my name,
I cower, hiding in the shadows, behind my shame
Wanted posters mock me, crying foul;
Making me wonder; am I human or ghoul!

Faces without names and names without faces,
They cross over without leaving any traces
I fight a battle that is lost, one that is futile;
I must complete the sentence, my solitary exile.

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