Alone On The Stomp

I am starving,

I am cold,
I am lost,
and I am 22 years old writing songs that are poems. I know it’s a story that was maybe already told, but here is the difference between I and what is already sold to the minds of the readers and the ears of the listeners.
Here lies small silver shards of metal in my throat.
While words try to escape and go, I begin to choke, I bend and twist, turning red to the pain that has been bestowed upon me. Save me please do not, these sins I cannot begin to remember when they were committed. I take a look back while bleeding and scratching at the intense pain as the bridge I need is engulfed by flames. Engulfed by pain, my body is slain, I am defeated, my soul is released and I am the energy and my dead body becomes the earth’s seed and thus planets of vivid green sprouts from the dirt from underneath what was once a murder scene.
I am starving,
I am cold,
I am lost,
O’ Please, O’ Please, I haven’t seen the world since I left, but before I can finish my piece I return as a leaf on the Great Deku Tree. I am a virtual assistant of the bigger picture, let the sun rays hit me as my cells expands like the knowledge of a human’s mind. Allow the roots to feed me as I grow and become greater in time, but before the fall we meet a link who brings us Autumn, during the convo I become food to a  Very Hungry Caterpillar under the name Eric Carle, I became the energy that morphs into a butterfly.
I am no longer starving,
I am no longer cold,
I am free, not lost.