A Lone Rose

It seems to me that you stand, in a world of mirrors..
That you have lived your life in other's bodies.
They are your puppets...and you, the puppet master.
They have only seen one of your faces...
The one that does not have the evil that the other contains.
You seem to me so content...
Can you not see the blinding shame that you should see?
But I am not going to fall in a slippery well.
I have had enough of your silver-tongued sleekness.
I will start a new world afresh.
I will contradict all that you prophesize.
And I stand, confident of myself...
A lone rose wilting on the fiery desert floor.