Poemander

Unrecognisable obsession,

Attraction, to the point of destruction.

If I call out every name

They'd rather lock me up or frame.

But not this time, I seek no fame,

My spirit is a hungry flame:

With lewd tongue it swallows shame.

Frivolities of wicked game.

Beyond repair – take me there

Lame, broken piece of grand fanfare.

A meager fluke, misfired flare.

I know one thing – I'm not from here.

Origin timeless and no name

Declare me not, since we're the same,

Like Mephistopheles who came

Before the world knew who to blame.

Contemptuous regard on every face.

Acclaim just to hide disgrace.

I represent this human race

And praying not for coup de grace.

A mercy is misapprehension,

I trace a path no guidebooks mention,

Awoken in this strange dimension,

Where one ascends by condescension.

No, mercy and forgiveness saved for those,

Who follow steps, not those who chose

To take it further than the prose,

And lead beyond the human cause.

Among all choices, I suppose,

Being chosen is the hardest choice.