Who is to say who i am

Who is to say who I am, what power do I have. Nothing confines me here. I am the creator of this illusion. The keeper or this fantasy and you are the dreamer of this reality. I have no laws the only limit for its creation is what I write, the only limit for its understanding is what your mind can comprehend what your soul can see and what your heart can portray. I am a poet. These are nothing more then words. The sparks of emotion are nothing compared to the fire that burns inside me to tell this tale. Their are no ethnic races, no primary or imaginary colors, no physics, no laws, no theories only what I make. I am a poet, a teller of what I see through my eyes. The expressed of my emotions, the dreamer of my fantasy. I am the jury to this world, my world. Only one color exists gray. The mixture of light and dark, black and white. From the darkness I speak of light. Welcome to the gray. I am not the one that betrays I only tell what I think and feel. From the shadows I reach out to touch your shoulder… to taunt you. To tease your consciousness… as you stumble through life this is all I have to offer. My tales of woe, my basis of hope. Now I am yours as you are mine… soon you shall be rid of me as you would want. For if your eyes could look into mine you would not see anything for I will not let you. Realize I am not the fool you would have me be. I know and I will still let you play in the fields you make, the ones where you spread my blood. Peaceful field, the short grass bending to the smooth crisp wind. The soft white fluffy clouds forming silent dreams and raving fantasies. The pure stream deep and clear its sweet waters feeding the florescent willow tree its strong branches providing shade for the birds that play underneath. The serenity of the sun, the bright rays dulled by this peaceful valley field. The animals in harmony. This illusion you create.This is where you murdered me. This valley stained with blood… the monolith mountains blocking the sun keeping the light from me, the vultures that play with my bones under this rotting dead willow tree, this smooth wind with the hollows of silence for its ghastly tunes tell of my death. The animals all feasting in delight upon my dead flesh. These clouds hiding the tears of angels… for they seen how you ripped my still beating heart from me. I promised you love you promised me it back. Then I turned to pick you a rose… with its thorns my heart was cut out. And I know for seek what you will of my pain, sleep peacefully at night… for I will not have redemption for that. I am unlike you. For as dark as I portray myself I am not morbid and capable of intentionally ripping another’s heart out. Take what you will of my body, wreck my mind, and break my heart; but you can never have my soul. Only pure love can reach it, you taint my blood, my tears. But you can never taint my soul. But you have surpassed all I could ever do to you, you desecrated your own soul… upon it reads my tomb stone. “Here lies a person who loved me, I promised them love and I said it back, but when his eyes could not see I awoke, here in me is that persons dead heart I have took.” I said of what I would do… still you read. I told you what would happened. Still you read. I told love brightness and peace as it was seen. But then I looked in the other eye. And told of how it was. Still you read. And now you dread for your time spent to hurt me… and now I have told you of it but rest assure I will not hurt you… you have done that yourself. You said the one I love will be the luckiest alive… foolish for it could have been you till that day. What shall tomorrow have? Maybe you should take heed to this warning… and keep from ripping my heart out again. For now you leave and you are no longer mine but I am forever yours. When my lips caress your hand you know what you almost did or will you finish?