Covered
A million threads now woven,
with no single thread ever revealing
what web it intended to weave.
Each thread seemed
a pleasure-friend upon its arrival,
granting my desires and wishes,
and for a time, it seemed
that the tapestry woven upon me
was but a cloth to cover my emptiness.
So, I welcomed their work
and for a season took joy
in my covering,
but day after day, and way
after misguided way
the threads continually came,
and the weight of their work increased,
even as the pleasure they once gave
faded.
Now, I need not tell you more,
for my image tells all.
But, I shall not die to this wretched web,
for even as I have torn its cover
from before my eyes
so as to once again see,
God willing, I shall ever tear
and forsake all care
until at last...
I can present myself
once again clean.
