I am not the distant howling wind.
Unseen, but heard wailing in the empty.
I am not the lightning spark.
Gone in but a beautiful moment, with a triumphant fanfare.
I am not the infinitely ephemeral night.
All engulfing, strangling, transcending trechery with twinkling treasures.
I am not the inky, foul rain.
The run off and cycle of a mad corruption, perpetual, and cancerous, growing...
I am not the sun.
Favored, worshipped, loved, yet held in respect... perhaps fear.
I am not the watchful, silent, blahse moon.
Vouyeristic, shy, and bitter.
I am not the crumbling earth.
Something firm, of great substance, and stability.
I am not the shining stars.
Anonymous, harmless, ever blissful in a multitude of likeness.
I am not the green, whispering sea.
Waffling, indecisive, traumatized by invading cool
I am not the pristine ice.
Glistening and receeding, submitting, and cracking; from the instantaneous flake, to the sliding aged glacier, they all wait for innevitable end.
I am not the stretching rock.
Defiant against sky, reaching in desperation to decry.
I am not the blue sky,
Invincible in infinity and omnipotence.
I am not the drifting cloud
plotting, and anticipating a greater part.
I am the conflagration, the timid flame, the torch, the smoldering extinguished.
I am the great destroyer.
I turn the faithful earth to smoldering decay.
I poison the murmuring wind.
I boil the indecisive sea.
I blind the night.
I defy the sun.
I outlast the spark.
I mock the thieving moon.
I ignore the starving.
I turn the prideful to wet.
I crack the great.
I strangle the infinite.
I snuff the listless.
I consume.
I radiate.
I destroy.
