While sunshine is the most blinding force
Wandering eyes roam during downpours
The sun touches water with buried treasure gleams
But the rain brings danger with overflowing streams
I’m caught in my musing
Of unsettled gentlemen
And it gets so confusing
The kettle’s called black again
They speak in fitful analogy and metaphor
In voices reserved for nearly forgotten lore
I ruminate on idle fancies and yesterday’s dreams
But everyone remains deaf as my words become screams
Chorus
We travel roads leading away from mainland
Where common travelers stumble upon quicksand
Where the black widows dance
And the preying mantis hunts ants
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