I Built This

I built it with my bare hands,
A paradise - unrestrained,
A design to sprawl in line, left and right, across these lands
As blinding white light scrawls tight words in the rain

I built it by the river,
A serenity - keen and clean,
Amenities for obscenities past delivered
Memories, for no more agony to become unto me

I built it by the valleys,
An ascension - always rising,
No mention of the tallies of shallow fallacies rapt for hourly salaries
Powerful tension I took in realizing wrenching incension of the fountains of baptizing

In lies
I tried, and survived
And still, I built it

I built it all for a new life,
A fate - maimed from hate
Too late to restrain the blade of the knife
And though I have the rest of time - I wait

I built it all, every stone,
A guilt - of shadow overthrown
Blood spilt on the throne that has grown in silt white as bone
Of seeds skilled in the art of being sown alone

And still - still I built this,
An existence - carved with thorns,
I still miss it and mourn the scornlessness
Which was insistently gripped at the wrist and torn, imprisoned since before it was born

...but I built this.