If I were a fraud, would that I might be color-soaked,
Drawn by the anxious merchant is thought provoked.
What urgency in my soul each day cause true agony
Could reveal the nature of my heartbroken symphony.
In crimson drippings of sanity lost in majestic horizon
While the Teflon magic of society maintain provision,
Wilt quiet soul traumatize judgment in kindred spirit
A quest, a desire, perhaps to best ill-found in dispirit.
On the monster in mind; fallacy in passionate embrace
For to ever understand why we would question a face.
As the robe gives way to society drawn to stoning mood
Might the humanity of sacrifice question a sullen brood.
For in the fakery of life we all might shadow a release,
To know full love will alter horrific talons, breathe peace.