Let Me Speak

This is the part where the poetic prophet speaks

Allowing the wells of my soul to water yours

 As I pushed 80 mph on a highway of devastation

I prayed only you would love me in the morning

Caress me gracefully as the sun does weeping willow trees

Yet this dry scene lacks luster like underwhelming one-night stand

Unequivocally detached, legions of ill manifested tongues spread fallacies and tall tales

Piercing brigades of adversity lodge themselves steadily amidst what was and what could never be

Buried to the neck in grains of black sand equating the sums of one's misery

High tides of repent see fit to baptize a tainted soul

Reincarnated phoenix with the burning spirit of a thousand suns