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Poem

When you cross worlds of uncertainty and confusion
Are you not the one delighted in the trouncing of it all?
Or would you rather kick and scream until you are left squirming?
Embrace the shadowy terrain of soulful search,
Surpassing futile dignities and vagaries,
Surpassing the very souls that long to tear away your victory!
I am not the stone in the middle of the path,
The cold, rough boulder in which you pound away at
Seeking warmth that never seeps through
Engraved in the midst of me is a softness you will never understand
And as the fog surrounds you, chilling you into hysterics,
I will run through like the leader of the pack,
Feeling a wind on my face that can only be felt in the climax of the run!
I am too fast to indulge in the fires of your anger,
Threatening weakly to consume me! 
How desperate you are! 
How foolish this all is! 

Follow me if you dare
But do not try to break me

As you lift your head to witness the peace of a crowd’s jeer
Can you not turn away and smile at their ambrosial fear? 
Why do you insist on roosting in the very nests we have burned? 
You turn away from the beckoning obscurity,
Yet you bask in the lies of surety! 
My victory is sure—how far can you endure?
You are not the victim pushed along the wayside,
But a whining martyr seeking self-centered sustenance
I eat pups like you for breakfast,
Out of the kindness of my heart!
Rue the day I set you free
Yet do not come near my pack—or me! 

Hesitant to say, I love you for you
But not enough to allow the warmth to seep through
Fight me if you cease to care
And be ready for triumph to spew from the boulders you have created

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