Adore you with my mind in transit, far from the fields, we steal your thunder, as the waves rise up, crashing to shore with a thunderous midnight roar.
Known now to all, the priest suddenly cries, as he slam's his feet in protest. The world not a friend, but a misunderstanding of fear, testing his faith for a ungodly notion.
Can't you tell by now, seven days alone is now seen by a false line of sight. From the town's morning light, roars like rolling static, filling the air.
Rise up to, the deepest sunshine. Good morning, this true dawning. Mirrors the angelic sacrifice, that was laid out on offer, only for those with little faith.
Stolen from the sea and tossed into the abis. Could it be a mistake? He was always going to refute your mind's elation, but don't mistake his peculiar ways overshadowed by the brightest light.
All the profits appear before my morning window, bringing me no sympathy, as I'm left to ponder in this conscious dream.
Static filles the cold dark room, as we await his next tribal move. Will it be the greatest fear? Hesitation is to forsake those left in our wake.
Trust is a must, as he can turn a tide in the blink of an eye. You can't be caught in the out drift, for blind faith is forever lost at sea.
©thegizz211
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