I was born with light in my eyes.
The sun had risen before I could wake to bear witness to my crowning
and greet me when I began to cry out.
And though the temperate winds would dare,
my crown could not be shaken.
I was born with truth at the tip of my tongue
for the birds all sang their psalm in harmony
as they taught me how to call out my name.
They would spread their restless wings and run away,
only to come back at the slightest sound from their brethren.
For while their birdsong played out to different tunes,
their blood was singing an anthem in their veins.
I was born to march to the beat of the battledrum,
emerging from the battlefield, bloodsoaked and bereaving.
I once wore my colors like a soldier who dreamt of a war to be won,
now I'm wearing my valor, like a dreamer who's soldiering on.