I stand at the peak of your pride

Staring down

To the tips of my toes

Averting, deflecting my electric gaze

In a silent sword fight

That fails to yield a virtuous victor.

Hide, the thunder pleads

Return to the skies

Lest the ground gives way beneath your feet

And fixes me here forever.

In stark flashes of light

I used to cleave what has become my prison

Divide, and defy the heavens

Give no heed to the celestial might

That ties everything down excluding I

The creation of nature's rage

Of which they watch, fear and revere.

Trapped in the vessel of the physical

The darkness in the skies of my eyes

Are sapped of its depth and

Mistaken as empty

A cold wasteland, devoid of the stars you've eaten.

My lightning is not meant to be contained

In a polished silver box, so it fades

Hunted by the hunter

Passed down to the illusion of this master

Lightning kneels to no one, but that day

Even the thunder had abandoned me

In favour of neutrality.

So much is at stake

A war beneath my fingers

Writhes, and I wish

To witness destruction in my wake

Though I still cling onto sympathy for the sea, and trees, and the world that doesn't know me

Fenced within a lonely field of grass

For others' safety, for the well-being of the masses

As the ground and sky trade pieces of my fate

Cast into the shape of playing cards.

To carve the air once again

Charge, like brave stallions

I'll demand your attention, your acknowledgement

I'll have you witness what I can do, untethered

Blast my cage into smithereens

See where the shards land, foresee my own destiny

And chuckle shamelessly

My dream, filled with potential

And just that, potential.

Old poem...I think this will be one of the last installments of this collection. Or at the very least, the last installment with the spoken-word style. (Still trying to rewrite my old poems!)