Think of me

Think of me...
As a river;
Not made of water,
But fire.

Thick molten lava,
Oozing out from
Every orifice of mine,
Making me look like a demon.

A monster so horrid,
My self could tremble.
This fire so fearful...
Is what makes me, my soul.

Like blood, sweat, shit and vomit,

When we see out in the open ~

Although so terrifying, repulsive, filthy and ugly,

'Tis what makes us mortal.

Think of me...

As a cloud;

Not made of rain,

But thunder.

Think of me...

As a blade of grass;

Not made of soil,

But of earth so blue.

Think of me...

As a black sheep;

Not made of any wool so black,

But colors that cannot be seen.

In the eyes of the beholder blind,

None the light reaches not

From my fur and my hide.

'Tis what makes me black; thus they call...

Think of me...

As a thought;

Not made of the past,

But the present.

Think of me...

As not the man;

But the spirit,

Who giveth as much as it taketh.

Think of me...

As a mirror;

Not an inch more,

Nor an ounce less.

Think of me...

As that is all I can give;

A moment to behold,

A moment to live.