Smoke and spirits to thaw my own
Damp from days of cyclical heights
Tripping over on sleep to singing whys
Come in, she beckons, to a brand new night

Of concern for battles unfought but lost
Of a drifting tyrant who appears but is not
What she seems, underneath, a scheming wreck
Of quick made decisions, less quick to check

That maybe, the vulnerable mind can harm
Others, far more vulnerable than mine
The time taken to choose may not always be
The time span on effects those choices do leave

I cry inside, giving you shallow hints
Of truths that valleys could not contain
Water rushes in fast, to fill the empty space
I gasp for air, and wait for the Day

But now all I wish for is spirits and smoke
You’ve weakened all my rip-roaring fight
To sink into laughter and throw away worry
The death, the disaster of a brand new night.