Stormy nights call for a song to be sung, From the deepest parts of your bowel, About all that is foul, In a life where the crows scowl, At every smile you glitter towards a night sky empty of stars…
Ask youself. What reigns over your mind at the sound of thunder? Is it all who plunder your joy for a chance to, Muster up a coin at the expense of luster, Our souls are given in exchange for riches stealing our shine… Or, Is it music made in your mind, From every droplet landing on a dime, You hold in your palm wide open towards a sky, With faith it’ll fill with more than money you adore less than a life, Full of answers to questions you wish you didn’t have…
Only one can be had. You can’t have both in a world refusing to understand, Your dry moments. Moments where atonement, For your sins, Seems like stepping on a hot bed of coals and, Drinking a cup half empty of acid tears you swallow whole, In a single gulp while begging for more… Only one can be had… And, You might as well recite the song repelling away what thrives off of seeing you, Sad…
m3l0dicverse 
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