I am here

I am here lost in a lot, I have cared too much about becoming water, or wind or silence. You do not to know that I owe love my breath, so, I must leave. I will no longer let my dust settle for a cathedral of lies. If this was a war, I am the mingled blood and sweat stretching the path home in the armpit of the antagonist. Your symphony of worries will not make a quartet of laughter for me, let me become tears, let me wallow in my unrivaled fear. I will not boast what I am not, so if I am a sound then be my ears and listen.

Ruddapoet