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.