There’s something I don’t quite get,
As to why this world tastes so bland.
Unsupervised, planned misguidances;
Have put this quiet super-race in high command.
...
Fantastic!
To what do we owe this place?
This buzzing metropolis state,
This murderous engorged life.
...
I wish I could heal you,
To bring you into my arms and soothe you, restore you,
Tell you everything kindly, gently.
...
Where do I go,
If I am not here.
To flee, to fight, to hide;
Which way is best
...
This is a world
That was not chosen.
A series of consequences and
Generations of misfortunes,
...
To shout or to keep it inside,
Of me, for what reason?
Rattle me this.
To reach for guidance or sit with quiet susurrations.
...
There's a story I'm certain
Of a beautiful spring,
Wide-eyed and open to the wonders
And the warmth of the sun.
...