WHO AM I - II

And then the question continues to demand, "Who am I?"  It continues to ring demanding a response, "Who am I?" 

Am I the darkened words of a few choice strays?

Am I the hurt inflicted by a few wrong hides?

The hurt of another? The euphoria of the blind hopeful?

All these do not know me. They would all like to leave their marks- either as engravings - their pounds of flesh or their, themselves lost offerings of putrid gratitudes.

They would either like to say that they were able to afflict a mark on the granite posture of the one created to stand like the Himalayas, God made or were able to bow her head in morbid shame throwing her Himalayan peak down in torrents of molten water, if I would allow them. No way!

I have seen one who should stand, kneel in peaks of petrifying anger, seeking vengeance and demanding I crumble. I have seen the indifferent. I have seen hate. All directed at the lost. I laugh.

Would I be defined by these - a casual high, a deadly trough, eyes that have not seen me but deign to assume, nay to define.

Would I allow another lost define?

Would I allow the hurt?

Would I allow the stark raving mad?

Would I allow the deceived?

Would I allow anyone? Seeing none created me save the Almighty?

I might have hurt. I might have stabbed. I might have driven the sharp ragged edges of a steak knife down the spine of a disappointed but none so intensely and with as much concentration as through myself. 

I might have the demands of a revenge on my head. The callous call of a bemused, a wrong or a wronged. I might have a bounty upon my head.

But it's gonna be a friggin' cold day in hell before I let anyone who thinks I owe tell me who I am, the limits or the extent of the heights I have been destined to soar, the pinnacles I have been destined to scale and the zeniths I have been destined to spring off.  A friggin' cold day before I let anyone I think owes me, define the graceful planes of triumph I have been destined to glide or the depths of treasures I have been ordained to excavate that can be found only in darkness.  

I will owe you one more thing, you will owe me one more- that you give way and let the King of glory come in!

So whether you be thirsty on the dry ravines of revenge or your eyes be bloodshot on the deadly mission of ripping. Whether you be serated with the jagged edges of a butcher knife or whether you have been afflicted with the blind blows I dispensed in the mad rage of a blind, wounded, bemused and crazy bull . Whether you are the heights of a gift or the depths of a mistake, I give you only one word - 

"Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in. Who is this King of glory? The Lord strong and mighty, the LORD mighty in battle. Lift up your heads, O ye gates; even lift them up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in. Who is this King of glory? The LORD of hosts, he is the King of glory. Selah"

                              - The book of Psalms Chapter 24 verses 7 to 10. 

Why do I say this? Because neither you, nor I have what it takes to give anything more than a morbid past. Because neither you nor I have what it takes to redeem from the depths of a confused being the sparkling diamonds buried deep within. Because neither you nor I have what it takes to cast me on the throes of passion in self discovery and throw me a truthful and glorious definition. 

So... make way for the King.