On the days we feel pain
On the days when it rains
On the days we feel sorrow
On the days we can’t wait till tomorrow
On the days where your own conviction becomes the crucifixion.
You can feel the burn inside of you. Eating away at all you ever strode towards. Now your mind is a singed path for everyone to walk on. But like the phoenix you must destroy yourself in order to be born again. The great dance of fire will consume, and the only force that drives the change is water. Because there’s nothing that can change like Tacoma rain.