If I continue to sit on this rock
will I wear thin?
And if I try to slide off and I trip and fall
how shall I begin again?
Is it wrong to roam and seek?
For hands grow weak
sitting atop this peak
of power
of reign.
Where is the rain?
The thunder quaking underneath my feet
Once again I feel the madness
creeping inside of me
my soul threatens to end it all
there go the hands again
shaking, quaking to the beat of the drums beneath
I finally feel it
when I do it sends shivers down the spine with a
snap.
I fear no longer.
Pick those feet up
stand on the ledge
take the reins of revenge
Fall.