Who Am I

I am the screams from the wind that blows In the oozing blood from veins of death I am grief I am the voice without a sound Standing on a pedestal without legs Talking to ghosts I am loneliness I am the eyes of a soul in shades of black I am guilt I am the surrendering will of a believing soul Whose brokenness knows no rest I am agony I am the shooting star whose light shot arrows Never caught a glimpse of glory bright I am the silent sobs of an infant who never sucked The milk from its mother’s breasts I am rejection I am the stubborn gravel matte that chokes The stem of its umbilical grip I am bitterness I am the recurring echoes of laughter And giggles in the silent wars of lonely souls I am hope I am the subtle whisperly winds From a weeping willow that dries The fresh blood dripping from the stench Of un forgiveness I am the warm embrace with a kiss On invisible scars that creates masquerades I am love I am the spirals of a shadow From the summer sun’s stricken horn In a unicorn’s serenade I am fierce I am the roar of a lioness in the silent echoes Of a ceasing war that I fought with the last drop Of my blood I am courage I am the crystals in the sands off distant shores Speaking languages of glitz to battered souls I am pride I am the dignity that flounders in unique serendipity I am the virgin faith with a standing ovation Smeared by vintage aroma I am a legend I am the exculpation of pain weaved souls The elusive waive of hollow enigmas I am forgiveness I am the surrogacy in the hive of impeccable touch I am sacrifice I am the texture of a heart in mingled silhouettes Of heavenly white I am purity I am the scars of a staraple fate that wears a thick coat Of royal purple, with stars of grace shooting From the arrows of its celestial muse I am royalty I am the wings of an eagle in the last of storms From eastern winds I am freedom I am the diamonds in the vowels of stories Shared through decades from bows of hearts I am forever