Mystic rain saturates my plastic

Soul with hungry dreams where a child

Lays frozen between two humble boards.

A winking creek overflows with spiritual beings

That fuel my frigid pulse with your rendition of war.

You song is a prayer for the lonely

Who dissolve inside my weeping clouds.

Your bold fist consumes tragic waves of grain

Within this sanctified tomb;

However, it is the gateway leading to

Soulful light that is the true leader of the pack.