On bending knees,
I fall.
Your somber spirits eroded my gentle disposition.
Filling me with a rage unknown
to the all-seeing,
naked eye.
My naked eye.
Your stare.
The feeling of a million judgments and burdens
passed down,
without a merciful feeling
or single remorse.
You consume me.
On bending knees,
I fall.
Daily, my cup runneth over with your malicious cancer.
A sweet seduction circulating through
the very veins of my existence.
I Drink deeply.
You are me. I am you.
The reflection of a self-gratifying enigma
of a greater magnitude than you or I
could sustain within ourself.
My temple is yours.
On bending knees,
I fall.
I am me.
The great and powerful wizard of a self-inflicted nightmare.
To whom I owe an abundant measure
of acknowledgement and love.
My stare.
The beady eyes of a forewarn soul looking for salvation
of a higher sanction than himself.
A light that guides
through the devastation of your many storms.
On bending knees,
I fall.
I’ll follow in your light.
Embracing the change within myself
to become that which I know not of,
but will one day live within the presence of.
The path is lit.
I’ll build the path.
For building sustains a haven
for the ones who walk with me.
You are me.
I am you.
We are one.
On bending knees,
I fall.
I pray.
I win.
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