I Am

by epiphanies

I am winter. I am wrath. I am a boy with unruly black hair and green eyes. I am alone.

I Am

by : epiphanies

I am.

I am the North. I am the East. I am the winter and the frost. I am the harbinger of all things cold. I am the world in the cusp of autumn, the sweet November air crackles into never-ending December winds. I am an entity all my own, to behold and be seen in a wonderment never known to those who have never felt my wrath.

I am a boy. Only a boy. A mop of unruly black hair and a set of slightly off-centre emerald eyes, eyes that my mother had. I am a wizard.

One to be followed. One to be sung to, one to be cursed. One to be caught. One to be made love to in the harshest weather to feel the warmth of another body - but yet I am still cold.

I am distinct and wolverine, sensual and topical. I am geographically inclined and yet I have never been described as anything past the level of shallow.

I am the tide as it falls. I am the winds as they level houses. I am the spirit that allows maim, allows hurt, allows thunder. I am the lightning rod to all things evil.

I am tall. I am narrow. I am steep. I am innocent. I am young.

I am dead.