Imagine - Brendon Etienne

I am concealed in a glass prison. 

I am darkness in liquid shape. 

Forming relations with paper. 

Its canvas is a mantle for illusion. 

A creator of documents is what’s in store. 

Often at Staples you’ll find many galore. 

With sharp swipes I will sharpen my sword

When I fall to the floor, 

my perspective shifts. 

From the depths I stare back at you 

You are bigger. 

I am a tool. 

Instrument of creativity, Cry Out. 

Cry Out. 

As you float away I may carry 

words of sin

regret

hate

happiness 

and joy. 

In hand, 

bounded to the task Everlast. 

Everlasting tool of creativity.