I sang a song
in the forefront of the storm
In the gush of warm
before
the rains
come from far away

before black silk nights
are biting cold
and stars are
nothing but
shattered glass
within a sky and times are hard
because they say "you'll never make it."

and rain
and rain
descends like bullets again
bullets again
in the shape of
a slow, deep breath
where I'm too quick to
exhale

I sang a battle song at the top of my lungs
in the pool of each breath
in the depth of a sky
so crystal
I could pirouette on
obsidian and feel the fire
of a star

I sang a song before the storm came
before I would not be stopped
and where every arm that goes to hold me
back
will only find infinity
and endless velvet skies