This Grand Scape
Above and below the blue cold streams that flow
And give shape
To this abstract world
Lifestyles emerge and surge forth to claim our souls
With the ever tempting presence
Of detours and potholes which serve to modify our roles
Life,
Our most free and blessed possession
Can grow into being our most fierce obsession to change
In order to make life free from the pain and the rains which drench our paths to freedom
But most solutions only blur the road home
And leaves us utterly alone
In the end
Searching for a life of our own
Now that this life is gone
Modifications of the brain
Just to tame the day
And kill the dismay
Occasionally
Return to betray
Their user
Reflect upon our mirrors as losers
And turn the road ahead to abuse
Fabricate the noose
Allow a man to snooze
While life passes by
Some are flying too high
Wishing that life full of pain and sorrow
Would disappear tomorrow
And see the Sun before new eyes unfold
For old pain only grows
And blocks
The above and below where those cold blue streams flow
And a man is lost, when
His terrain is covered with snow made of denial, booze and blow
Which only collect those pains and sorrows
On that great scape with sky blue
Where at last you have made your world with everything included
But you.
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