A Twisted Tail

To be or not to be
That is my deception
What I present others to see
Is purely my conception
Of what they want or need
I show them a saint
I show them greed
It is all just paint
And not really me
My barbed wire blade
Given for those in pain
Who seek timely aid,
Their salvation to regain
So many lives within the Dream
From which to choose
Much greater than what is seen
So much greater the loss when I lose
Nascent pain, nerve endings flayed
This is my hallucination
Not the one that was played
With the endless machination
A performance of divine simplicity
The likes of which have yet to be attained
Of dancers flying frivolously
In my head, so strained
Swoop down and demand
A truth of mortal plights
But cut off the given hand
And ask, "Show us your sights."

--Alex Kulczycki