Often I ask myself, Who am I, { I don't know} I drift in this endless sea called humanity. Always changing to fit whatever purpose, losing who I was, never knowing what I could have become. Drowning in my own silent rage, { who am I}. Storyteller, woodwright, cobbler, tinker, father. All of these,   and at the same time none of these things.  I have no fear in looking into myself, I have no fear in facing the evil and good that dwells in me. I fear the rage of confusion that awaits me in the deepest part of my soul. My cold blue eyes  envision shadows, neither past nor present, adding to the rage to come. Shattered dreams, lost hope, surrounded by humanity, but alone, sinking deeper into the abyss of my soul. Who am I { I don't know}.