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I Am
By
Daisy

I Am

The goddess of suffering speaks.

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.

I am
Nothing.

And
Something.

Something and
Nothing
That float in the ether,
Shadows of grace on the ancient days;
Patters of rain on the rocks of suffering;
Bolts of blue lightning on the endless ocean;
Whispers of pain in the ears of my beloved.

I am
Sighs.

And
Gasps.

Gasping and
Sighing
On the eve of Tomorrow,
Bending and swaying in legends of old;
Whispers of promises spoken in curses;
Life force of the Death who traverses the heart.

I am
Barren.

And
Fruitful.

Fruitful and
Barren,
The bursting succour to the wastelands;
The scouring flood in the deserts of arid sands;
The scorching heat to the rivers of tears.

I am
Mystery.

And
Clarity.

Clarity and
Mystery,
The visions of young men and the dreams of the aged;
The face in the mirror of midsummer nights;
The voice of the inherently dumb and the silencer of hopes.

I
Am.

Could I not
Be,
I would
Rejoice.

But I
Am,
And I
Mourn my own
Being.

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than storiesspace.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright ©2019 Daisy Shylass All Rights Reserved. This material may not be reproduced, displayed, modified or distributed without prior permission. Please be respectful of my intellectual property.

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