To be Dylan's voice-
With a shriek within tremors
In a land of folk, to land like a rolling stone
To be like a strum in silence
Cacophonously universal
Adversely everyone's but uniquely one's
To be a confluence of revolution
Where the voiceless meets the harmonica
Where the withered fingers meet the guitar
A complete unknown like a rolling stone
To be a gust of wind
Blowin' with answers
A genesis of alienation and the burden of perfection-
None's imitation and none's to claim
A centurion's gift but with seclusion as a friend
To be a stream of response
To be a protest
To be Dylan's voice-
To be Dylan.