by Lena Lautner
Happy isn't a state of mind ... It's a state of soul.
|There's rivers flowing down the streets of Depth |
Perception's hand unfolding beyond the rain
And in His mighty fist that previously attain'd
The drops of dignity, and sorrow's unimaginable wealth.
How can you walk amongst the power of such?
And feel not near ashamed but rather calm.
The presence of death may frighten some
But not you, no sir, it doesn't seem to bother you much.
The sound of patter, drip drip drops my dreams
And wipes the fear of disappointment from the slate
Of my dellusionate life's travesties; you take the bait.
So soon the cycle unevitably begins again, it seems.
The pulley systems of my mind keep turning
The thoughts of this, nothing at all, and that return, repeat
Though there's a small dark corner screaming, although discreet.
That sound still brings back the memory of my eternal burning.
What is a soul, but a silly excuse to elude the fear of dying?
So then what is love but an excuse to live?
And what is joy but the answer that explains the will to give?
We are such fools, because despite this knowledge we keep trying.
And still the safest resonance remains the ticking of the clock
Almost wiped out by the now pounding of the rain
The darkest, memoir'd noise of His unleashed fury and disdain
And my ears still focusing on the sound of His walk.
Footstep after footstep, will He hurt me tonight?
Tick tock, tick tock, why am I not afraid?
Though I know there'll surely be tears, not by my memories made.
I realize how surely I've been bound, and just how tight.
Dear clouds, weep down on this unsettled world.
And with your celestial, most certain ways cry out
The story of forever - make it known, make sure to shout!
We'll make them listen, this has been for far too long untold.