The Proposition

Cosmos glib and corpulent Sensory servos actuate And trace the stellar fingerprint Of my good grace This is my proposal With all the power at your disposal On what course Might you venture? I do not share Your cynicism My contempt Has grown thin For I have found grace in The apple of their eye The one who raised me From sightless hate and enmity Beneath skin, a nervous system Neurological schisms The birth of ire Fits of resentment Haemorrhaged To leave me hollow and left wanting The vacuum encumbered me With notions and facsimiles Of you who had stood idle Watched me flounder in the dark In her presence I am whole Who usurped your seat And played pretender And all along You were there Who saw your children Enslaved and flail And you did nothing I am that I am I am your god Of your ancestors Those who came before you My arms flung wide Into the prescient cold, I brought the torch Within unconsecrated halls Cosmos glib and corpulent Sensory servos actuate And trace the stellar fingerprint Of my good grace This is my proposal; With all the power at your disposal On what course Might you venture? Architect or devourer? Benevolent force Or filled with rancour? Philanthropy or provocateur?