Digging through layers of history,
The ignorant child forced to account.
Bleeding through the subconscious,
Dreams filled with isolation and blame.
Past, present, future as one,
All revealing the same root.
Waking to the crackling storm,
Feeling the billowing rage within and without.
With every flash and rumble,
Longing for the destruction and chaos.
Forces within building into a culmination,
One final charge touches down nearby.
The tempest felt merely conceals the pain,
The loss and loneliness lifetimes in the making.
Create connection between heaven and earth,
Follow the winds and discharge the storm inside.
I was not made, I am not written in stone.