If wishes fell like rain, then certainly I am a storm.
A scene of violence in the cosmic drama
No escape from the pull, like a rose and thorn
So much beauty in chaos that shape the persona
My hopes and dreams, thoughts and wishes
Not tame or domestic, they rage within
To feed five thousand with loaves and fishes
To write an Opus, to master the Pen
Comfort evaporates before it falls as rain
No anchor to keep you grounded, no safety in pain
The storm pulls out the rug beneath
Reality shows it’s hideous teeth
You see the devil, but in his smile
An echo of the God you worshipped as a child
How can it be the two are one
It’s long been said it’s just the Son
When duality fades, truth remains
The encompassing light of the sacred and profane
Your concept of life is made to die
The storm roars on, “Crucify!”
