I am a book that no one's read,
A voracious hunger that's never been fed.
A phantom that haunts those I've known,
A vision that's seen but never shown.
I have no body, no heart or soul,
I live in the minds of the young and old.
No one can see me though I'm always there,
A flick of a light or wisp of cold air.
I have no sense of presence or time,
No conscious pretence of what's yours or mine.
I take what I want, live as I choose,
I have no remorse for those I abuse.
Some people find me a breath of fresh air,
Other's remind me how little I care.
I rise every morning before every sun,
At the end of the day my work's just begun.
I've always existed and always will,
Many've resisted though welcomed my thrill.
I've been portrayed in songs and scenes,
Crudely displayed upon movie screens.
Some seek my guidance, covet my rules,
Find false reliance, submit like fools.
Some think they know me, the hate that I feel,
Attempt to show me what's fake and what's real.
Though some men deny me, reject I exist,
They often find me, reflect then subsist.
There's no place to hide that's outside my reach,
Those who have died I loath and beseech.
God has his children, the lambs of his flock,
Teachers that teach them to cling to his rock.
I don't pretend to be who I'm not.
I never intend to be void or forgot.
Copyright © July 2010