Awaken, sleeping traveler.
Cast aside inertia, enjoy the ricochet
Breathe the world through your eyes,
Admire the way it gives, and God takes away.
What scares you only gets uglier in death.
Which death, you ask, to silent rests,
The spindle’s clouding the seed of reason;
Fears cascading the windows of your soul,
The voice grips you to the overwhelm,
Sound waves slowly inching you off the bed
But you are lying still as a mountain with its eyes closed,
No one sees the blood on the floor or the knives in your head.
The present is the future presupposed
Erasing the grace and retain of old-time religion,
It reminds you of journey and purpose,
All things need to be maintained.
Banish fear, move inside inspired emotion
Scream out loud or just announce your devotion
Be obscene and lack the advised discretion,
Spill out your shame, expose your obsession.