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On identity
Overwhelmed, scared and confused I try to make sense of what is to be
I am completely entrenched within a struggle,
It's me against me
I've waited so long, prepared so well
I've done my homework, sacrificed, strived,
I've suffered and bear the scars from my journey to hell
Now it's my turn, the door is locked, but I will soon have the key in my hand
I must be ready to walk through that door
I must be willing to make my stand
But wait a minute...My wings are not yet dry
I'm not ready...
I am afraid to fly
Who am I? What is my purpose? What am I here to do?
I'm perplexed, puzzled and thoroughly lost
Someone give me a sign please? Someone drop me a clue?
Up until this point, the path has been littered with hints
There has been a well-worn road for my feet to tread
In spots, there have been clouds, but always with golden-hued tints
But now, my road is unpaved and my way dark
I can't turn back now...I've passed the point of return
The time has come for me to take my place; to make my mark
The pages are blank, my script has yet to be written
The ink is fresh and the pen is new
The brush is dipped;
The colors at their brightest hue
Metaphors aside
Purple prose can't save the day
In all reality, I am terrified
The variables are unknown
I must make my own way
The answer this time to me will not be shown.

The door is locked and I will soon have the key in my hand
Will I be ready and willing to walk through that door?
Am I prepared for the task at hand?
Who am I? What is my purpose? What am I here to do?
My road is unpaved and my way is dark
The time has come for me to take my place
To make my mark
My pages are blank but my pen is new
The brush is ready
The colors at their brightest hue.
Purple prose can't save the day
The variables are unknown
And now I must find my own way.