The False Self
The False Self
I did not see her
For she was falsely adorned in deceptive attire
Strumming her deceit
On her crude old lyre
I did not see her
For my vision was blurred
Until deep in my years
My spirit stirred
Too long had I danced
To her wretched rhythm
Too long had she darkened
My life's fragile prism
I was afraid to lose her
I have forsaken her now, my pitiful illusion
The strength she gave me I must use against her
For with all my strength I wish her gone.
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