My Whisper As A Song Poem by Svanhildur Njálsdóttir

I am a song
Sung among
the jolly rangers
of stranger plains
I am chirped
by the poisonous cicades
that nip fatally
at the weathered heels
of travelers

I am carried by the wind
that slips silently
through the grass
better than any serpant
I am the poem
blackening in the flame
dancing in the eyes
of a lover scorned

I am the melody
played before the deaf audience
who shall never raise there head
to a single note

I am the blood
innocent and untouched
of a new born baby child
who knows not of pain

I am the evil
that shall taint the blood
and bring tears to the eyes
that will give his reflection

I am not the angel of mercy
swooping down with glorious wings
offering redemption and salvation

I am not a miracle
curing your ailment
restoring shattered hope
changing the tide of battle

I am not the jolly ranger
the poisonous cicades,
the wind nor lover scorned

I am not the conductor,
the audience, the child,
nor the man he shall become

I am what i am
I am a song
and I will be with you
forever...