Essence of a Slave

Note: I was in a collar at the time that this was published. It was a short-lived collar and not a good fit for me. Chalk it up to lessons learned in youth.

Out there, burning on the breeze,
feeling alive and burning
with the deep fires of all there is
there are those who know
who push with the fire to burn
and who seek what is real
and which has been for an enternity.

How can I say that I am not one
who wishes only for the reality
of the fate which nature designed
pushing me to what I knew was real
all along? Pushing me to take
everything that had been offered
in every way that life could offer
the one thing which I wanted so desperately
to touch and to seek?

We are told of gifts,
of things given and others taken
sometimes both at the same time.
But of these I know not
and of these I do not wish to know
I am not a gift. I have nothing to give.
But from me you take
because in me you see something
which I have to offer and which I know not.
I call it nature
while many think of it as a gift
and I cry many nights in the confusion
of what I really am.

Breathe your fire into me and make me live;
force me into the serenity
of what my heart offers and what I am.
Speak to me offerings
of the gift that is my heart
and breathe to me the truths
of all my days gone by.

If anything of mine is a gift
then consider it the gift of the earth
of the ocean and of the sky
and if you will, consider it
the gift of the fire within
for that which is deepest
burns within me
and makes me real.

My gift is not my own
but the gift of nature.
Yet it is my choice
of unto whom I should offer
this gift of my heart
and of my soul
of my submission
and of my future
my life and my very being.

It is to you I offer this
with nature's heed
and I strive always
to make me yours
as you strive to make me yours
and I will be there
when time ends
bringing to me
that which always was
and turning to you
with the heart and the soul
the very essence
of a slave.

Copyright ©devin 2003