Like a soothing curve and an unending nerve,
You had me on the edge of the constant verve.
With a cryptic sauce or of little loss,
That must have been the deed of the cause.
No hand enough to calm the beast,
Everything is in sight, to say the least.”
Chaos grooving with the sound of thunder,
‘Take it’… something is in blunder.
Having said things ‘over and over’
“People!” do run for cover.
Vein disrupting at the sight of churn
Setting the house to fire, that never was to be burn.
“Hating, loathing, kicking, screaming.”
And the laughter of joy came back beaming.