I Am Myself, A Disguise

I am myself, a disguise
Who's prior shape implies
The myth.
The man created,
The vacated host,
And it seems the former
I have loved the most.
My face, a ruse.
A mirror to amuse
My arcane humor.
I take for granted
The sins of a mortal,
That in my life,
I am beyond my own
Control.
Each whim is sought
To perpetuate thought
Like a blossoming rose.
Upon wind that shakes
The Earth,
I retire to my worth.
I am worthless.
A shell knowing nothing
But empty space.
I taste the sweet complexities
Of a life all mine,
But not for a moment
Do I satisfy the deep thirst
That I do burst with fervor
For a prayer to sleep.
A care to keep
Or hold like a newborn child.