Something is brewing in the air that breathes a new turn,
That, after a rocky ride, gallops to be the awakening dawn after the night that burned
In tiny footsteps it tiptoes, in the silence of the grimming solace it echoes aloud
Sauntering through the engulfing trances of life, the call of change blows its scout
I gaze at my phone, the wheels of time becalm a wind unknown
Forlorn as one sat, yearning for a peace that to them is known
A death I embraced, a sacrilege of a thousand versions of me,
The ones that were too innocent, too woven in goodness for the world to see.
I feel the metamorphosis of the beckoning storm,
One that chauffeurs through the steadiness before it challenges the norm
Raptured through the being of atrocity, the spirit of survival forges its presence

At the hands of animosity, the call for selfishness finds its essence.
I look at the windowsill, as the winds of change blow their scout
Tiptoeing in silent footsteps, the silence of grimming solace echoes its being aloud
The call of change is brewing, where the light blazes through the night that embraces the dawn.
The reckoning surmounts, as the new me breathes in the sacrilege of my versions long gone
I died a thousand deaths to be who I am today
Of course, I will fiercely protect the version of me who beckons to stay
I hope you choose to embrace change if your present bleeds you alive
I hope you choose yourself in every stance of your life.

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