Untitled10

Facing the lightning strikes with my arms outstretched and my eyes continuously rise to the storm without faltering with fear and everything in place holding the world on my shoulders as small as I am barely living but never dying and my eyes are always rising to the occasion with the hidden sorrows of endless tomorrows the rains quenching the hidden rage like a caged will that is unmet...what would any of you know with your disconnected eyes like we ever were, like we could ever be in this state made like vessels into puppets...would you ever know the puppeteer that hides behind all its lies?