Tarnished Light

My own reflections are making me weak, My own deceptions are making me bleak. My own honesty is making me a mockery, My own light is making me dark. It is taking me over; It has breached my cover. It is neither tremendous nor tranquil, I am consumed by my craving for whimsy. The tranquility it offers me— I am way above this buttery flee. The bliss it comes with— I am neither in my business nor between its sharp teeth. I will not urge you to go easy on me, I will not ask you for a serene salvation, I will not take your heavenly throne, And make it my own. The share meant for me is set aside; I only want that part. No one can truly replace anyone, Yet I am a stranger to who I have become.