Standing in the storms of life.
I invite you.
Rip me apart.
Tear away the veil.
Dip into my heart.
Can’t change the way I was born.
Flames and hammers beat me till I became reformed.
Thrashing still against the common thread.
Won’t stop resisting until the day I’m dead.
World why do you laugh at all my tries? Blackness covers me in its sorrow weeping lies. So I stare out into a dream wondering if all is as it seems.
Vanity and insecurity hold me in their loving hands. Clouds of hypocrisy standing with righteous pretense model in the spotlight confusing us so no one truly understands.
We laud the corrupt, we applaud the corrupt.
We vote them in, makes me want to erupt.
Where is my purpose?
What is my goal?
Who do I touch?
What will unfold?
See myself doing the things I don’t want to do. Do them anyway, take fancy in being crude. But then repent. Change again and again. Don’t tell me about original sin.
Made from the dirt. Flesh to skin. Bleeding to feel alive. Hurt lets me know a pulse is there ready to rescind. Rescind the doubt, push it away, have to keep changing or resolve to die more each day.
When the waters run like fresh moonlight cleaning my wrongs, sluicing away worry and missteps refreshing…
