I thought I was conversing with angels
But I was just talking to myself.
I thought I was telling a story of magic and power and trickery and love
But I was just stealing the work of others.
I thought I sang a song of great importance
But my voice was weak and my words rang false.
I thought I wrote of disaster and creation
But life and death eluded my reach.
I thought I stood strong against the forces of the night
But I merely cowered and held up my false prose as a shield.
I thought I was drowning
But I was only feeling the ocean spray on my face.
I wasn’t walking on water,
I was just standing on a reef.
I wasn’t working fearsome magic,
I was hiding in plain sight.
I thought I was dying.
I just lived.