Let us loose control through the torment of a new episode

Choices we made in the wind will depend upon
Twilight darkness in its mass appeal pronounced in fear
Desolation,
Vibrant sun on its noon day appeal

Through the episode we can learn its summoned call
A pronounced excursion to have a ball
When the lines were drawn in the sand,
It is my hope that you will understand,

The straight & narrow through its barbed wire fences
Latent trenches in miserable trances;
In decorated silence toward its beckoning call
A silence on the new day;

That of its beautiful flower display,
In peril storms chosen in disaster we look intently
Yet far too few prepare for its great here after
In Autumn the light of a brand new day sun

In haunting revelation we pierce the sky in surprise
Chances are we learn to dream in timeless cue
Although very far from few with climax behind its papal pew
In storms filled with dreams in twilight pleasure

The words pierce between its seams to gather
The silence of its beckoning call to create
In solemn words of surprise a great cure came through the sky;

In mass eruption caught again in the storm,
Some may even insist in cursing the day they were born?
In careful observation the soul gets warned,
Yet through its dessensitized ways getting caught in haze

Viable dreams latent in the dormant appeal
Although some may insist it being no big deal
Alone through the wire one gun for hire
In chosen vestibule explosion having to put some lotion,

Storms can take us to where we need to go,
Through far off circling peaks to way below.
Yet some insist it will inflate the common ego?
Needing a shoulder to cry as a baby with its sigh!