I am the oak tree that won't bow before the wind, Branches sway but never bend.

I am the blades of grass, many but we move as one mind, unbreakable.

I am the sheathed blade, potential hidden behind panes of folded steel.

I am the second-to-last, patiently waiting my turn but not despaired.

I am the final straw, calculated for the finishing blow.

I am passion rekindled.

I am lost lovers.

I am the hammer and the chisel.

I am the undefinable, I am the here and there.