Scorched earth
And the beams are in my eyes,
The light pulling it's warmth
Through my window
Like a coffin rectangle
And the chirping knocks
The vibes from an otherwise
Melancholy that makes
Me want to avenge my
Mother's death,

The early birds
Eaten by worms in the soiled
Veil of the repeat,
Slowly getting the point
Of no return and the ladies
Power walking to hell,
I pull the shades on the day
For a solitary confinement
And that's OK with me,
Cuz tomorrow,
Today,
Everyday the sun,
Lights blindingly.