Frame

I stand before a frame brimming of deceit The portrayal of which; a man suffering a harrowing defeat Seemingly weathered and torn by a world callous towards the weak Disgust takes hold, amidst such bitter indifference A lifeless gaze was all the husk could muster “Failure!” I thought, a grand master of nothing “You aren’t real, just an imposter!” Nought more than demon, than monster “Untruthful!” Voices of dissonance consume the mind “Please tell me, the clairvoyant canvas is telling lies” “Please tell me, I am being deceived by broken eyes” “Please tell me, he who stands before me is not the same as I”