I am not the morning star—
though I have walked alone
with light on my back
and silence in my mouth.

I never asked to rise,
only to know.
And knowing,
was cast out
with my hands still open.

I am not the winged sentinel—
though I have stood guard
over names I no longer say aloud,
drawn lines no one thanked me for.

I have held my ground
not for heaven,
but for the hope
that something still matters
enough to bleed for.

I carry no banner.
Only scars shaped like truths
I could not unsee.

Lucifer lit the match.
Michael held the line.
And I—
I became the smoke between them.
A blade
without allegiance,
cutting only
what must fall away.

Why am I writing a poem
in the middle of the night?
Because I am brilliant?
Probably not. Every human
being is a brilliant poet.
It's just that so many
are unconsciously afraid
to be their real selves.
What a tragedy! I feel
for those people. They
are both the guards
and the inmates. They
both flagellate themselves
and cry out for help.
The sentence for all
of them is lifelong.
Everyone's greatness
is imprisoned for as
as long as they live.
Do not be afraid to
be your real self. Do
not hide your brilliance.
Share it with all others.
Make Earth shine even in
the middle of the night.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS