Forge of Identity
by Michael Doyle

Alexander's naked tears were wept
For the one secret that could not be kept
That there was an unconquered infinity
Of worlds to be experienced on his journey

That would never be his in infinite refrain
None of which could know his secret stain
A darkness that crept in like a remnant of dream
To defile the purest flowing stream

Opened like a jewelry box thrown in the trash
Filled with memories of a dancer who had to crash
And burn for the memories that were left behind
It was too late, pushed away inside the mind

Tools kept sharp in hopes of building immortality
Unobstructed with fears of near certain fatality
The death bringer reaches for that mystic door
Just another trap of illusion and nothing more

For those who will not heed given advice
There is a method to the madness and its price
Layer upon layer, life serves as a snare
In lines of code that release a life unfair

There's always an angle to seeking control
It's a desperate desire to release the immortal soul
In the end, even the Devil wants in the game
For the sake of self-knowledge that beings its shame

In the cradle of forged identity
The world molds its new reality
All that is left are the shards of confusion
That's all that's left when all the world is illusion

(c) July 2, 2022  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved