Volatile sounds in distortion’s grace,
Mind why are you so quick to race?
Your beats unsound in wary pace,
In the mirror waving your leery face,

But to that is more I see,
Both be dipped in the ink of irony,

At least your absent meander would turn in colors,
Your racing thoughts be turn to words,
You bring me to places you wander,
To places where I could mend and render

Mind how quick for you to deceive,
Show me to where there is relief
For what you bring in laden to this ground,
Are voices clinging in much different sounds