You have no idea
what it is that I need,
though you like to suppose
that you lie at the center
like a flame burning proud
in the winds of my judgment.
Yet, I may look one way
but walk another.
Do not follow me
only to persecute,
but walk beside me,
poised in transcience,
equivalently cradled
in the arms of error.
For you, too,
are a child in this life,
just as I.
Just as I.