Perverted Genius

He must have had his flaws,
But no eye was born who would bear.
Anyone, who could say that God once had little laws,
That would drive this world of dreams far and near.
A purpose or a whim that became all that we know,
A player untiring with a joy that would never go.
The intertwining of a pure joy and misplaced sorrow,
The long, defeating, dark nights that precede the bright morrow.
Mistakes made first, revealed later,
Choices made, of sin, without fear.
Imperfections ingrained such in the beautiful dress,
To an unsuspecting eye, the perfection of which does impress.
Those faiths firmed on rock and sand,
Some that kill, some become a saving hand.
Illusions that look like the perfect art,
Fables that part guide, distract in part.
Who but a fascinated child with a quill could do such obvious,
Or someone above man, a perverted genius!