“Who am I, you ask? ”
I am a narrative in the making,
A happy ending not yet told;
A plot unapologetically thickening,
An unedited pagination in bold.
I am a breath worth breathing,
Escaping death with each blow;
Avoiding over speculating
When the last one will flow.
I am faith in motion,
Unconventional devotion.
More enlightened via the personal
Than stage-like public spectacle.
I am desire, craving daily to be known,
Not forced into isolation to venture alone;
But absorbing each new sunrise and sunset
Providing the gift of another day for riveting embrace.
I am a friend worth having;
A reliable man worth confiding.
Gratefully ineligible to adjudicate,
In the now, fearlessly merciful.
I am honesty’s new best friend,
A quest for truth continually probing;
A current of transparency untainted,
Longing for a nonjudgmental landing.
“Who am I, you ask? ”
I am a narrative in the making,
A happy ending not yet told;
...
Not many days hold the power of such parody,
Where reflection bids a respectful bow.
Catastrophic at first glance,
A single day full of heartbreaking events.
...
The negotiators have gone silent
Now only ink need be applied
Like blood covering sin’s demise
Hard to believe a tree ceased to exist
...
The wait kills the man;
A necessary death nonetheless,
Leaving him unanswered,
Sensationally demised.
...
The moment I laid eyes on it I knew
there is life beyond this grave.
I was not meant to be restrained
by my own lament.
...