This poem is written by Frank Roberts. Read his bio.
There is an augmenting confliction in my bones.
It stems from a scarlet seed now restricting my every move.
I am rooted to the surface.
Liberty lies within the sacred proclamations.
How can I deny what has been said? “you hold the potential."
But my lips are sewn tight.
An immense obstacle is in my path with a face like my own.
Its particles continue their quick conglomeration.
Who has the might to stop fate?
Truth stares me as a reflection.
I am the sower.
I am the tailor.
I am the molder.