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!”