The God of PerfectionismHow many times have I started again?I string them together and rip them apart.A million worlds that I hold in my hands. My beautiful children who rise from the sand.I think of them fondly, a part of my heart.How many times have I started again? They all sing together, from human to wren.They see me and know me, so blessings impart.A million worlds that I hold in my hands. They're all unbelievers who don't understand.Their lips are pure poison, their souls are all tart.How many times have I started again? Different ingredients, all comes out bland.An apple pie from scratch, seeds are my art.A million worlds that I hold in my hands. I hoped for a difference, but this was all planned.My fingers clench tight, and apocalypse starts.How many times have I started again?A million worlds that I hold in my hands.flashflashplay_arrowpersonpersonpersonperson