For I am Creator and Created

I'm strewn across a mad weaving of colors- so intricate, novel and beautiful

Much like the virtues I've long admired

I selected these tresses with love, delighted by my design

But slowly the tapestry I wove grasps me, holds my arms apart and grapples my throat,

Wraps my body hard against the thousand threads-

Choking, choking, choking

I painted your face with a stroke of a brush

I tap life into canvas

Majestic, each hue an account of this heart and its many offspring-

Passion, desperation, lust, hate... and more, so much more

Now your face haunts me

As this portrait's become a nail struck in the core of my mind

I speak with the tongue of angels at some point

for I beckon the crowd and they listen

They believe, they follow, singing my praises and taking part of that so called light

My voice used to heal

...till I fool myself no more and fool nobody else;

the adoring crowd has turned into an angry mob

And they aim to cause me harm

Nothing can be undone but I can alter, maybe even repair

I can patch, paint anew and hold these speeches

But for tonight I stay anonymous

With the choice to leave or to stay

As the works of my hands glisten their way to a fresh morn

in hope, that new life begins with a new day.