The drops in veins
Are the thoughts insane
The talk in vain
Is to prompt the phase
The song I sang
I drop the face
The sign that rays
The darkest day
It’s time to race
And write the date
To account the rate
Of the countless deaths
Of the tiny cells
That reside in shades
Of the mindless brain
The doubts are bad
Are like dots embedded
On a darker shed
That’s propped with paints
But honestly
It’s to pop the pain
On a block with pen
So I strike the pins
To disembark the bane
I rock the string
To shock the wave
And I shot the blame
To fog a name
That’s bothering
The inside of me
The sky is red
And the ground is rain
I lost the track
So I walk the lane
To find the peace
I define the pace
I blind the drapes
To light the sense
I side the rage
To sight the sage
I spine the strength
To eye the main
I fine the thread
And dissolve the ends
To embroid the change
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