Devotion (When I Cry the Wind Disappears)

BILL BROOKS, MIKE MARE

All I've known is self,
never knelt with any conviction
Limited wisdom, infinite intuition
Listen, perhaps none of us are ready for that heady concoction of change
and exchange
Arrows aimed inward
The fall proceeds winter
From cinders of me that are left perhaps you build a new kingdom.
Never once have I thought beyond my own breath until this instant
Been resistant to envision existence.
Not sure how to explain this mortal prison
to a new prisoner.
The world IS sinister.
And when you speak there'll be few listeners
We are ALL so different and yet somehow even MORE similar
Anger was our family's signature
But it's compassion at our core
We've endured, adapted, reacted.
Lineage over time has fractured.
Tribes scattered.
Those that are left gather to recollect the echos of past laughter.
Perhaps YOU truly ARE all that matters.
A new chapter.
My truth shattered to revel something primal
Perhaps vital.
A new cycle.
Cyclical ellipse that shift the ego towards the id
Amid this chaos I lack the language to explain this world's anguish.
Or why we are ALL so damaged.
We'll try to provide every advantage so you can manage.
But what I can't provide are answers as to why.
The meaning to all this is in NO religious text or scroll.
At their core they're ALL just control
Devolved from myth into addiction
And in the midst of this mess .
I find myself still wishing that these words reach newly-formed ears.
I truly hope we can converse in these coming years.
a few more words to be spoken:
If you're anything like HER
you are already HAVE my devotion.
But for now, I suppose, I'm just hoping.

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