WHOM

I’m the smell that lingers in an empty room
I’m the happiness, which leaves a little too soon
I’m the sound of silence, beyond the din
I’m the cold draught that manages to squeeze in
I’m the darkness that overcomes light
I am the seeker, bereft of sight
I’m the writer of this droning tome
I’m the feeling you’re never home
I’m the instigator, of questions of faith
I’m the hunger that will never abate
I’m the joker that no longer speaks
I am the prize, always out of reach
I’m the secret that is never kept
I am the tear you’ve never wept
I’m the feeling you’ve been here before
I am the arrogance that breeds war
I’m the keeper of the things you forget
I am the water that never stays wet
I’m the hole in the pocket of life
I’m the comfort on the edge of a knife
I’m the calm in the eye of a storm
I’m the soul who has yet to be born
I’m the insect you crush with your feet
I am the you, you never meet.