I am bleeding, my thoughts are fleeting
out from in the pouring rain.
My blood can stain every window pane
within the highest house of blame.
My deepest cuts remain silent but
loudly they weep.
Your soul is asleep.

Now awaken, your mind has taken
such great strides in a circular ride.
So concerned with your complexion,
impression,
intention.
You’ve missed the point, you lost the connection.
Find your mouth and we’ll talk.
Find your keys and we’ll drive.
Find your soul and for once
you may find you’re alive.