FIRE IN THE STORM
It gets crazy, it gets crazy, yes it does.
I mean it gets scary pretty much so as to cause the thighs to tremble, my hand to tremor and my ear tips to twitch.
Feeling like that suspended mass of cellophane in the sky, flying against her will, pushed around by the force of the wind.
The storm approaches....
How long will i keep running for shelter, I thought I found fulfilment but no it was basically a piece of consolation price I designed for myself.
I still feel it, I still feel it, in this so called peace or piece of fulfilment. I still feel it, the burning desire, the uproaring voice of the persona within me raging for freedom, clamouring and crying for the grace to be utilised.
Chains so strong, from all around me I am bound. By their opinion, I am bound. By friends bound, by family bound, by religion bound, By me, most imperatively, bound.
But really though I am a ghost, bound because I didn't know I am.
The storm approaches, fire brewing in its axis. My sanity shattering. My dreams keep me awake, ironic i knowwww...Arghhhh wait, isn't the cloud going to bless my loamy heart with her water?
Growing isn't easy, Germination is terribly Tedious. The particles of dust wipe against my eye lids...Vision is blurry, eyes are shut walking with faith of not falling, of not going astray.
Now I'll be moving like the cellophane in the blue sky, but by a purposeful wind this time, I'll be the ghost with a new Persona. Dead to my former self, dead to bad vibes. Boundless and free.
I will be the fire in the storm, their subtle wish.... The rain will pour even heavily when I turn blue. The stones they throw will only pass through me and then my laughter will give way for their hands to get weary and mouths agape.
Harry, I burn freely with vigour, I am the stormy fire.
I mean it gets scary pretty much so as to cause the thighs to tremble, my hand to tremor and my ear tips to twitch.
Feeling like that suspended mass of cellophane in the sky, flying against her will, pushed around by the force of the wind.
The storm approaches....
How long will i keep running for shelter, I thought I found fulfilment but no it was basically a piece of consolation price I designed for myself.
I still feel it, I still feel it, in this so called peace or piece of fulfilment. I still feel it, the burning desire, the uproaring voice of the persona within me raging for freedom, clamouring and crying for the grace to be utilised.
Chains so strong, from all around me I am bound. By their opinion, I am bound. By friends bound, by family bound, by religion bound, By me, most imperatively, bound.
But really though I am a ghost, bound because I didn't know I am.
The storm approaches, fire brewing in its axis. My sanity shattering. My dreams keep me awake, ironic i knowwww...Arghhhh wait, isn't the cloud going to bless my loamy heart with her water?
Growing isn't easy, Germination is terribly Tedious. The particles of dust wipe against my eye lids...Vision is blurry, eyes are shut walking with faith of not falling, of not going astray.
Now I'll be moving like the cellophane in the blue sky, but by a purposeful wind this time, I'll be the ghost with a new Persona. Dead to my former self, dead to bad vibes. Boundless and free.
I will be the fire in the storm, their subtle wish.... The rain will pour even heavily when I turn blue. The stones they throw will only pass through me and then my laughter will give way for their hands to get weary and mouths agape.
Harry, I burn freely with vigour, I am the stormy fire.
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