Never so easy as 1 2 3, to find the right way… Tripping falling tumbling, on everything you say,
Whispers and voices, on the winds of change… Tug my hair, ’till I’m out of your range,
Like a radio station that fades at night… Those images lingering in my sight,
Taking the chance of walking the wire… Between Mother Ocean and the fire,
Burnt by the flames my road has paved… Pulled with the motion of every wave,
Surfing the eruption of soul…
And a midnight muse’s lull.