Our images frighten us.
Our images frighten us.
We hide our mistakes
And sometimes do hide
From our mistakes
But it seems to me
From own creation
Creator has hidden
Creation that is
Supposed to be based
On own beautiful image
Flawed and corrupted
May be the mirror
During the big bang
Creating multiple broken
Afraid to face
A failed creation
Creator hidden permanently
Behind a veil
Of dubious middlemen
And a defective medium
Discovered myself, reflection
Shattered mirror, fragmented
Discovered self, scary
Image ruined, desolate
Are we created in the image of the creator or our imperfections had created an imperfect image of the creator
Immediately without consent,
Wrapped and stamped,
As being created
In the image
Of an unknown,
Mind’s virginity lost,
Before even realized
What it meant.
Justice and righteousness,
Truth and fairness,
Manipulated words, victims of fanatical minds.
Bruised and bettered,
Are we created in the
Image of the perfect one?
Or are we following blindly the
Created by imperfect us?
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