My name is a tool.
It is not me.
My name does not possess me.
It does not permit other to poke
It does not bind me
Without it I am unchanged.
I will kneel, my heart upon the scale that measures eternity and the sins of my father will not weigh down upon it.
Then, from lips I cannot see will come a sound no instrument can copy.
A sound that shows our tongues as primitive baubles in sodden in our mouths.
A sound that will shout in the loudest silence every single part of me.
And this will be my name.
As a chorus resounds more sound than I have ever imagined to hear I will know.
This will be my name.
Poetry » General Rated: K, English, Words: 143, Published: 9/2/2014