Falling Up...
Isolated,
Though I hate it...
It is as it must be, trust me…
For survival,
It's as vital…
As the kiss in a love scene, but the…
Love seen in primetime
Isn't like mine... this lifetime
Sour grapes, but I find
They make quite fine white wine
But with none to share it with,
Fruitful actions fade to barrenness,
And fatefully this hermit waits for cracks to trace his carapace
Safely encased,
I navigate the masquerade in character
But fantasize of freedom from the masks and mass hysteria
In the pastures past these barriers…
I know greener grass grows…
Cures for past woes,
Flowering from the seeds of my last hope
A glass rose in a hail storm
Beauty born of the maelstrom
Watered by the stream of controversies I’ve prevailed from
Visions of the pale horse no longer plague my night’s sleep
I open my eyes to finally see that dreams are within my reach…
I’ll rise above the rabble in the rapture of my calling…
Cause I realize I was flying
When I thought the sky was falling...
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