Finding Your Own Identity Poem by Amelia Murray

The sounds of a distant violin filling the empty sky.
The rhythm speaking about a lost love,
someone lost in an ocean of black doves,
all ignoring his agonising outcry.

All dressed in black they come.
Their horses sighted first though the thickening mist.
There is no use in trying to resist,
but he refuses to take societies venom.

He stands up proud.
Taking a step to the covered path.
He knows that it might be a bloodbath,
but he won’t succumb to the clouded crowds.