Who Am I?

What’s my name? Well, that’s not so important.
But rest assured that I will get around to it.
I’m the important one, charged with drawing order
from the chaotic easel at which I sit.
You could consider me the narrative genie;
the fearsome phrases I use carefully manufactured
to sting, stab, stun or stupify as I see fit.
Tread carefully, lest I unleash the smallest part of my wit.

I wrap the mysteries in enigmas, and set in code,
leave the grey areas on the page for you to decipher the unknowns.
And if your upbringing is the reason you cannot manage this at home,
then we’ll try it my warped way – brass, and crass, and leaving no stone unthrown.
In all seriousness, predestined to be the best part of even your day.
The rest is your fault, no matter how much you incriminate and moan.
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Are you still here? Oh yes!
There’s still the matter of the unanswered question.
Because I take so long to get to the point
there are those that refer to me as… “Aeon”.

Ruminate

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