Instead of just passing by,

Perhaps let sunsets dry my eyes.

So often lost in a maze of fury,

Can I really settle my emotions?

Listening to music that’s familiar,

Am I playing with my own mind,

Waiting and suggesting again,

That music speaks to each other.

Like standing inside glass elevators

Seeing a world exist away from me,

People parading their lives today,

We don’t know about their tomorrow.

Talk to me when the rain subsides,

It’s then I’ll know my silent storm,

Is alone away from natural cause.

This is Grace, knowledge my own.