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eye of the storm
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whole lotta other stuff
feel the alarms within and their deep refrain
some moments of life are as transparent as cellophane
an ugly symbolic figure stands alone, explanation dies away
ultimately, dominant conditions of the darkness end the day
as night like a curtain hangs motionless
then it quotes itself in rich, full folds exogenous
adjudicate a shroud of fragile fraction
through which my features become addition through subtraction
when you almost fall to your knees it is hard to stand strong
affliction instead of benediction still you know right from wrong
the light flickers against the dark, like lightning in bad weather true to form
but in the end, I know it is me, that is always the eye of my own storm
