Speak easy of those who live in fear,
of those who doubt my existence.
They dwell in tremors and shackles,
both made from memories–
no ideals.
Neither deserving,
neither real.
I am not one.
I bring misery to its knees.
I hang it from ropes
in the midmorning sun.
So that the frightened, skeptic
fools may watch
as its neck snaps
against my certainty.
