At some point
Between birth and now
I became
The primary architect
Of my life
Shaping the scope
Of my reality
Out of clay
And illusion

 it was firstly
My parents
Good natured
In the rudimental senses of
Love and hope,
Connection
I'd suppose they did
A fair job
With their interpretation
Of practiced methods
And results
Providing me with the ability
To assume my mantle
As chief captain
Of my growth
And direction

When the position
Changed hands is
Inconsequential
The only thing of import
Is that now I
Must master my own Sense of
Realistic satisfaction
To become happier
With less and less
While desiring
More and more

Such is the nature
Of my occupation
That I shall never be rid of it
I'll carry my torch
Into the night
Illuminating the darkness
Searching for
The shadows of discovery.

I will carve from marble
This monument so long
In the making
And recognize my success
Even if I
Am the only one
To marvel at it.