I am a brilliant light. 

Don't tell me otherwise. I'll prove you wrong

Or I'll try. 

It's hard, really--when the light is faded. 

When layer after layer after layer is wrapped and peeling

And chipped and flawed and ever-growing. 

"You can't say that" and "I'm offended" as if those were arguments

Things that hold me back. Stop me from being

Everything I can--rhyme or reason or something

Beyond. 

An crushing weight it is and will be

Eternally pushing the boulder

Fighting gravity

Ever reaching for a drink or the fruit and thwarted

As the tree above, all other, grows to shade

And block the light I want to reveal

To show and share and that will change...

But it's afraid. Or am I--

Too weak a light, a lamp fallen

To break on reality

Grounded. 

You look but you don't see. 

Let those with eyes see--yes,

Those with ears hear--yes,

But the meek will not inherit. 

Because there are too many lenses, distortions and blocks

Clouding and hiding and faking

Filtering my words. You can't see the tree for the forest

That you assume I'm a part of. 

Arrogance? No. 

Reality. 

No disguise. No symbol. 

Remove the veils, burn the glass.

Gaze upon the sun.