May gods bless the benevolent imposters

Because these guys knoooow.
It's not that I just need a photo. No.

(I didn't intend to ever post this, it was more a word-spasm, with the intent of playing with translation, but I need to leave for the airport in 23 minutes and I'm only 70% through this burrito, so, here you go!)

May gods bless the benevolent imposters

They say the feeling grows

unexpected

at potency’s increase, so the inner doubt of inadequacy.

Unexpected.

From the audience it’s easier to assume the successful sit on thrones of arrogance,

but they tell us they’re folding chairs of self-doubt.

So should we say that all imposters are winners merely awaiting their championships?

No, because some really are what they fear to be.

Some of whom, win.

And take their seats on stage.

And that thought, there among the folding chairs on the daise,

that vestigial wondering if they’re meritorious or not,

accidentally admitted to the party, despite their lack of qualifications,

that is what keeps them from being the thing we assume them to be.

And, accidentally, saving their souls.

So god bless the benevolent imposters,

whose numbers cloak and protect the real things.