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written by: Nathan Munroe
The rain once said, "trust in me; for I will guide you to your path!"
I've waited and wandered about; like a lost child, my future is blurry; and full of uncertainty that blocks me, but as well holds the breath and offspring of a powerful spark of compelling achievements to change the perspective of people.
Endless, relentless pain burns my skin; engraving the scars of a psychopath.
Fears pick at my soul; boring holes as wide as sinkholes, making the happiness of that one perfect possibility of life; run away like a child who does not belong.
"The road shall find you; where ever you run and unsheathed you like a sword; to combat the tempest!"
I say to my future, let lightning roar, because the slumbering 'beast' in my heart will rip the death apart; with blue flames that flow within my soul.
"Creating art, and belonging to its group of originators, does not mean one will become the alpha in their talent."
Many have lost faith in me, but beware, if the beast was not at his normal routine, means: he's learning, growing and evolving; into an artistic warrior, who'll turn the seas black, the skies ruby; and the leaves of trees pale as the horse of death.
The minds of the people let statistics, and words uttered from a poisonous mouth; decide their future, and dull their positivity like a rusty sword, while molding their hearts into weaker seekers.