This passion is the only thing that brings me clarity.

My thoughts strewn left and right I’m never close to scarcity.

The words keep coming, so I keep forming them with structure.

But deep inside my head I feel something about to rupture.

I can only focus with this pen and paper in hand.

Or maybe even when musical talent reveals another band.

These situations must be presented as the only thing real.

Since it appears to myself, that I alone take my time to reveal–

The thoughts that keep me calm, yet raging all the same…

So I must find a means to an end of my own lame.