Steph Stack Poet I do not know?

I Am

I am the rage, wearing burdens like armor,
A fortress of anger, a shield of old trauma,
Each dent and each scar, a story retold,
Of battles fought fiercely and hearts grown cold.

I am the hurricane tearing through the town,
The tempest that rages, bringing it all down,
Each gust a reminder of words left unspoken,
Of trust that was shattered, of promises broken.

I am the thunder that rumbles with force,
An unyielding current, a wild, raging course,
The storm clouds above, heavy with hate,
Churning and twisting in an unending fate.

To trade heavy burdens for wings of light,
To find solace in shadows, to soften the fight,
I am the rage, yes, but I yearn to transform,
Into a river that flows, into a heart that is warm.

So I summon the strength to unshackle the past,
Embrace the soft turbulence, let go of the harrassed,
For even in fury, there lies a sweet grace,
As rage gives way to love in its final place.

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