"Dry Season"

Season of crimson blossoms,
Nature sprouts in seconds,
Signs of a shriveled harvest.

Happiness like a stone,
Is tossed into an ocean,
How do we begin to break the kernel of our silence?
Or find a costume that fits this madness.

Going forward a pit lies ahead,
Returning is a walk through the shadow of death,
So we stand shivering
Like a crucify on the neck of a hanged man.
Can hope change it all?

Our blessings are few droplets of rain,
So we find joy numbering our many woes,
Who knows? pains satisfy better than pleasure,
And hunger can slam the door of your yawning.

Here, talks and rant tumble over eachother
Dusk tries to outrun dawn.
The strong trample the weak.
Your sin can bring you to the throne.
All you need do is join the brotherhood