Who Am I?

Let me tell you of my fate;

I disturb and desecrate,

Hiss and horrify.

And, still, they continue to try

To use my hunger

As a means to find peace.

I am already dead,

Until I am fed.

With food I can inhale.

But, my life will surely fail.

I grow cold and still.

And water soaks my lungs.

Here I am before you,

An entrancing image, too.

I serve as passion

And, again, as destruction.

Who am I?

What is my purpose?

–A poem by Bryan Weaver