Discourse and discussion
Its all a game of shells
A mere image of something
Preparation helps, just like an open hand
My will, a boxing glove, with force to understand
What moves a man to tears,
What makes an ember grow
In this sea of sensitivity
Society moves... slow
Its not so much a race, but urgency does come
Once I assume my place perhaps, with faith intact, I'll run
I'll run to show them honor, and bridge a worldly gap
I'll sprint to the horizon and out past the charted map
With noone left beside me, I won't bother looking back
I've locked my eyes upon the prize, and well, I'm fine with that
My passion is unhinged but mellow at the moment
I move beyond the gates of hate awaiting my opponent
Its suprising to see, who all and all are stationed
We decorate these walls together, in painted collaboration
I was expecting such a foe, and now I'm humbled by whats shown
As much and many that I know, there still are things life has in store
I dream it lost then see it found, by murky mists and studdered sounds
Its almost funny what remains, after it all gets sorted out...
Life is kind of generous, it's splenderous when used, this hardened heart gets hollowed through a higher altitude. It's not far from the truth, to be tender and young. The seasoned spit and speak thier speech, perhaps they see it fun...
Perhaps its all because, we still find time to try
Although the odds are slim and stiff amidst such meager minds. I think myself as great, but maybe thats not true, I just appreciate of late humility when proved.
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