Music and the Dance

Truth.

Revelations.
Deluded conversations.
All a part of our elimination.

A true holy hell
Reincarnation
An un-holy war will be our devastation.

Before your eyes

A second chance?
No, there's no more time to dance.

The beat, our hips.
The song, our lips.
No more pop; no more beat.
No more melody so sweet.

Rain's steady hum sings me to sleep.
Thunder's wrath rocks me to peace.
And the rain drops splash,
Possibly waking us from this trance
Of the hypnotic movement of,
The music and the dance.

Lies, the opposite of truth.

Destruction.
Resolution.
The conflict that we call solution.

Breathing. Hurry.
Faster. Moving.
Round in circles.
We better our lies.
What is wrong is right in the politician's eyes.

Rushing blind.

Hurting those around.
Confused by the politics that surround.
And I can barely make a sound.

The beat, our hips.
The song, our lips.
No more pop; no more beat.
No more melody so sweet.

Rain's steady hum sings me to sleep.
Thunder's wrath rocks me to peace.
And the rain drops splash,
Possibly waking us from this trance
Of the hypnotic movement of,
The music and the dance.

Our painful music, our painful dance.
Painful for we chose to lose our chance,
To snap to the beat,
and move our feet,
With the music and the dance.