Render me

I stare at myself in the mirror

And wonder, ‘is this me,

Or is this the thunder

Of what seems the lightning has created?”

As I look yonder defining and

Trying to bring meaning to my regime

I’m forced to state my abilities

They do not shadow me, but resume me.

MY disease is in my perception that does not cease

Of accusing me.

 I am but the aftermath of a lightning storm

And my passion lays in what seems dormant

And I say to myself, “let it be”

Because in time, I know I will see

That  as I offer thunder a new face

I will bring a peace to my soul

In not smothering it, but loving it.

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