What We Become. By O.b.i

I'm am what we become, when the tears dries up and the heart pickup its pieces. When there is no longer fear,

or expectations or doubt, just dreams and desire, and a dare.

I'm what we become on those mornings that ends the night,  those mornings that the flowers sway to the bird's tune.

l'm what is left when the sun takes its light, l'm the night that brings bright stars and a glowing moon.

I'm what we become through the heat of the furnace and the thorns by the footpath, when it becomes pristine and pure,

when the scar finds its cure.

I'm what we become when we accept what we have become, when we make peace from what we cannot make pieces from.

I am what is left after the storm.