My soul is a storm beset in myriad ways
Torrential and volatile from uncountable days
As the swell of the sea rising past the shore
Where the anger of æons always beckons for more
there is a demon within me I cannot express
the powers it gives me are framed in duress
As if a pulsation, of some frenzied swarm
Like a face so familiar that I often preform
a comforting gesture, as gift in the haze
It rises within as an unforgivable blaze
Caustic and vile like holding a flame
These gifts I have shaped have no spoken name
& I cannot relinquish, nor ever forego
The whispers of influence these talents can show
To have without holding, I keep as a blade
Blinded by light, to be made whole in the shade
