My body is not a temple
For to be a temple is to contain an omnipotence that I envy
I will tile myself with rainbows of stained glass
And paint over the corrosion caused by rains of memories long forgotten
But I would never open myself to becoming that all-knowing entity
For learning is for those
Who gain power from mistakes
And those
Whose mosaics glow brighter from lessons well learned
And if I were to shatter my fragile ego
My glass would do the same
So instead I will fastidiously
Polish away any impurities
That threaten to show
The false prophet I play for the world
And pray to the ones I emulate
That a miracle will make me like them
