A short poem written for my blog:
I am but a man, cold unfeeling flesh.
No touch may hold me, no eye behold me.
Like clockwork I move, unwilling.
My world is made of glass, my hands razor sharp.
The slightest touch can destroy all I have built.
A world I made to contain my shattering heart.
Nothing I do has effect, nothing can repair my damage.
I am as cold as the dark sky, as unmoved as stone.
I bring chaos, despair
Updated 2-9-12 at 2:21 PM by The Grey Sage