Never have I felt so powerful
as when I've pointed the finger in the other direction.
Pride and self righteousness
paved my way toward heaven now
you, with your small minded, crooked stance
you, could never climb to the glorious height which I have reached
until hems begin to unravel,
stains blotted beyond repair
shattered glass
a window on the stair
how could I become so shallow, so crass
to not see my very own helix path
in time the finger came back
it was me who was it's target now
small curled up ball
painful insight bled
into my very walls
shivering reflection
I am aware
of my own self deception
the desire of heart felt compassion
could be cultivated by none other than me
myself, I,
construct
and breathe
pursual of midnight dreams
