Conceited

Paralysis holds the tongue while my mind's landscape remains barren. I dislike the time I've lost, sitting at this timeless post.

So far nothing of notoriety has happened, and by my past judgment, I can confidently say it will remain that way.

Though in this thoughtless wasteland, creatures roam throughout. Sometimes filling it to the brim. Hunchbacked and dull they walk by and feel my presence, but don't acknowledge it.

Their eyes overflow with sin and dismay. Judging eyes that can't see the cold reality before them.

Tis a shame, brilliance blooms, and yet they do not notice.

They refuse to. Making me out to be a jewel amongst the stones.

Quite the sin indeed.