Some are gentle are graceful, heart as open as winds touch. Some are picky and detailed in their view to keep the lines in order. Some have minds that can create worlds from their deepest selves.
I am none of those things. I am a stone shaped jagged by the river I am the storm that reins down on those who walk against the wind Not a proud act, just a act in itself
Essence so jagged made to carve at those who are red eyed wolfs. To sharp to be held To dull to have glimmer To rough to be warmed
The pain is my oxygen The love is my drought Spirit must grow, heart must deaden Mind must be sharp Battle will be my only love
The one who shaped my nature will call And i will be free