5 October 2012
Hot white light floods every feature, Of the angel and the creature, Godly saint and deadly sin, A daemon, called from deep within.
My vivid eyes show wide with fear, A wild one, now I appear, Split thoughts break out into cold song, A theory, based on right and wrong.
The mirror carves my frosted face, My heart drops, missing half its pace, My tongue annunciates the word, But, my mind's closed, I go unheard.
Who am I? This torch can not start, To even scratch my work of art, Acrylic paint on sunlight scape, The fault line, I'm not who I make.
Fault Line • Opuss № I