The power of Honesty

The pack, the power
the passion
of honesty--
to be truthful to yourself and of yourself first and foremost BEFORE anything and anyone else--
such meaningfulness spite restitution, other quarries, Well less of a god more than a man am I to say and utter the blindness and futility of being cut and clean and transparent and discreet.
I am no noble man, I am a woman; a dark, light-skinned, Black woman of Cherokee descent. I am not a god, but more than a man-- an earthworm called a caterpillar, the book worm, a scizhorprenic-- a crusader, a noblewoman, a princess of mind, heart, and body to his/ her father's very own words of wisdom and one's own descendants into the minds, hearts, and souls of the physical plane we call morality.
There are no bounds here, no gods, yet there are. For God is all around us, and inside each of us houses the bewildering flames of the Phoenix within and without.
I am a man in a woman's body, with long blond-white hair, and white-pale skin reflection resembling a semblance of man and female beauty; the edge of the blade is Event Horizon and its will is Sovereignty. The frail hope and maker, dream-creator and strife of the humanity I call my Human-- Mankind, its protector. I CHANGE things, with utter silence and silence paused held over Trunk's Briefs' antagonistic viewpoint in the shroudlessness, sheerness, unwhimsical world we call Earth as our reality.
I am a dreamer, a dream, and far be it, so much more. Where Memory, Melody, and Dream collide, I find a death of originality most satisfyingly Satan's, not mine.
I am the god of discord, not destruction; a goddess of the Faith (Fayth) and a seeress of desertion.
I have no flaws only weaknesses, that I dare claim my own. I am only human, mortal, a mere cat "hearing", "seeing" knowing, and wielding a world full of imagination.
And for that, I am home.