Grasping hold of the truth

What it truely is to be me...

This is my confession
My means to address all that I do
If I am but a creation of my self agony
My anguish fleets through my eyes
I'll draw my strength from you, where you'll not notice it
The grasp of all that I know is tangled in my misshapen thoughts
Seeing myself, I feel as though I should die
Knowing true that if my heart is what has kept me in this time
I must not give in to my desire now
The rest of my soul must wait till I am done with my mission
To bring what is not found in normal eyes to all who might seek
Asking is but hard for this in my repeating words that follow but one simple plan
That this is to be what will continue till the end
The end of what it is to be