Me, the comic?

What's in your mind?
"It twists in kind."

My doubts began;
My self they ran:

Destroying strength
Built up at length.

I told the pests,
Don't proffer tests:

"Hear trees, that speak.
"Wind tossed, they creak."

They then attacked,
Defense I lacked.

Thrown in the mire,
They sent me fire:

"The many reach,"
The few do teach"

"Row in a gale
Your lonely sail."

My mutters galled:
The terrors called.

Could this have led
To gripping lead?

Grim instrument,
The sacrament.

But doubt is naught
While beauty's sought.

Create a will,
That, never still,

Brings change to life,
With music rife.

In winter's cool,
lives shining Yule.