God in a Defiance

"I make me!"
Clever -
A ruse?
Your fingers are starting to prune.
Would you have me fetch you a towel
To prepare you for the prowl?
"No thank you. I will drip dry on the sand dunes."
By protesting your limitations
You choose sleep, prolonging this fiction
Where fortitude is found in flawless diction.
Lost in the art of your Bildungsroman:
"Are not you you? Will this harm me later?"
Semiotics and versification
Screeching, halts halfway down the banister,
Clutching the eternal interim.
When you tire, I will be, for I am
The guiding star of your existence,
The throb of hope that squeezes your hand,
Able to lead you through all resistance.
"Tide take me -
Severed
From you!"