I am the wild bird that sings
On mountain tops at noon
I am the ocean wave that never
Reaches the shore
I am a fireball coal
Too hot to hold; Too charred to be beautiful
I am the voice of battlecry
In fields where vultures feast
And men breathed their last
Lost in the vast echoes of eternity
I am salt
Necessary but never loved
Too little and I might be missed
Too much and I am loathed
I am glass
Dropped ever so often
The pieces roughly put back together
You can no longer see through
I was glass.
