Truth upon a seesaws centre,
saw a splinter through log goggles,
gosh! the time is waning,
still there's pain and yet, still purpose,
by the rain i'm watching, waiting,
jumping in might be an option,
what's the skies concoction though?
Will i be drowned in poison wet
or will the aching clouds forget me, passing on?
Yes, but there's another chance
that rain may dance upon my face,
gracefully choosing to anoint me,
that's part of history.
