The peak of our mind,

The eye that is blind.

The worry in which we find,

Grows thorns in which aren't kind.

Lightning that flashes,

Happiness that passes.

Whistle in our souls,

And sticks to our patch of grasses.

It tickles your tears.

And massages your ears.

Let go of those around you,

For they only fuel the fear.

Let the darkness roam,

Like gold covered in chrome.

It will continue to be happy,

With something that isn't home.

Light is your friend,

It'll be there even on your end.

Standing alone in your field,

Ready to take flight as you ascend.