*Spoken word. Find your own rhythm here.*

I can picture myself overlooking the meadows of my wants and needs
An empty field is all I see
I stand and scream - my steam pipe dreams - and listen as it echoes back as laughter unabashful
Im just a bastard, standing tall before the God of my existance
She is just a reflection of me perfected
Whose voice comes from behind
But as I turn I come to find only myself resurrected
Problem is I keep looking out when the sound is from within
The deepest penetration is lotus position but with the situation warranted I can't get my knees to bend

I, now, then

Weathering the calm before the storm
As if that's some adequate system of warning
I ask if my mother felt such things the moments before she bore me
Life is forlorn and I couldn't feel
The calm before this storm...

...Pfft

Quite frankly, I hadn't felt that peaceful since preschool
When it only took a teaspoon to fuel my imagination around the world as a whirling typhoon
Back then I didn't have to worry about the aftermath;
Save from the swirled winds of anger unfurled in the palm of my mother's hand
But rest assured I'd be napping soundly upon her breast by day's end
I, only realize, now, what I had, then
My mind tends to wander back every so often

Well...honestly that's dishonesty

It's actually every day I try in vain to will my past to make that little boy understand
And every night he greets me in my sleep
Tells me he is me and to keep the beat of my heart set apart from the songs they sing
And soon all that could've been all at once will be
Then will merge with the present and he and I will become trinity with my future
As soon as I release what I resent in some form of divinity
As soon as I gain some sort of enlightenment
I can see the clouds on the horizon...

When I wake I find myself standing nervously in the meadow of my wants in need
Before the God of my existance
I plead
To feel the calm before this...
All blows away...