Construct

Weaving through the fires of pain, my agony turns to tedium.
It does not effect any remedy, but there may be no solution here, in this dome.
To conquer one is to conquer all, but how can they be traversed?

The taint upon my arm turns me to the sky.
And I see
The rain that falls for weeks
Vanishing into my scar.
I don't understand.

Finally I realize:
I am not a man.
I never was.

Push

Deepening waves of pain lash out at me.
They seek to protect me from a secret.
From the truth.
I push on, past the agony.

This false rain cannot bind me.
I will not yield to its seductive touch.
But I am weak.
And now all choices are mine to make.

How can one prevail over one's self?
Time.

Temporary

Everything must one day hide itself.
Through death or,
Perhaps,
Something otherwise fleeting.

No, I reject the end.
This is not what I,
Truly,
Can allow myself to become.

My will alone redeems me.
Though I cannot atone,
Secretly,
Fate does not resent the lost.