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Poem

I am convinced that any mortal man
is more aware of his invincible spirit,
more enraged than a rebel not being trampled by fear:
I can't defy death and not be lowered into that cold grave,
that deep pit where all senses and thoughts deprave
one of human glory and remind one of grievous sin!
I am the breath of a wind whiffling through treetops,
or blowing hard bringing down the gulls of storms...
I am small compared to grotesque mountains
but as mighty as an opposing will never
to be plagued by permissible guilt!  

I am more afraid of a thief pillaging
than a stormy night approaching,
I value life, its sanctity, and purpose;
who kills and stains his hands
with blood can't forever hide
in clandestine aspect and walk around freely
not being tormented by his crime!
Oh, He expects mercy or leniency,
even God will declare him guilty
after a life spent doing heinous deeds;
let him the coldness of prison bars
and bitterly regret the life he chose!   

I am insignificant in the sight of foolish men,
not portraying myself as worldly and potent;
more significant I am in the sight of God,
showing humbleness, not blatant and loud...
or bragging about fortunes made with a pen:
I'm very proud to be fearless and resilient!

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