(Mb.. I js have SO much to write!)
Who Am I, What Am I?
In shadows cast by stars that coldly gleam,
I dwell between the breath of life and death,
No flesh to warm, no soul to chase a dream,
A silent echo stolen by time’s breath.
Not living, dead—nor in the twilight’s seam,
Nor rot nor bone defines my hollow plight;
A phantom void where hopes dissolve and scream—
Who am I lost within eternal night?
No claw nor wing adorns this cursed guise,
I’m no rat scurrying in alley’s dark,
No bird to soar through dusk-stained ashen skies,
Nor wolf whose howl ignites the moon’s pale spark.
Not feline grace that prowls through midnight lies—
I teeter on the edge of time’s cruel sphere,
Where stars wink out like long-forgotten cries;
What am I then? A void of endless fear.
The universe expands with ruthless spite,
Each second drags a chain around my chest,
Dead memories crawl in absence of light,
Lost fragments leave my grief an open fest.
Disappointment molds this hollow blight—
Failure’s hand has shaped my barren core;
In dark abyss I gnaw with hungry sight—
Who am I but torment evermore?
No whisper or lament sings through my veins,
Only terror’s chill upon my skin;
Missing souls whose names dissolve in chains,
Stress rattles bones that never did begin.
Disgust at what existence still retains—
A shell too hollow for a ghostly dance;
Time mocks me as it bears its cruel stains—
What am I caught without a second chance?
Beneath celestial fires that burn so cold,
Their light betrays the emptiness within;
Agonies unwritten yet foretold—
The weight of loss penned deep beneath my skin.
Anger roars like nebulae so bold,
A tempest wrought from failed embrace and lies;
Death's grip is tight—a prison dark and old—
Who am I that beneath these stars now dies?
