Chaos is my favorite sound.

It’s the only time control is surrendered.

Depending on the circumstances, you’ll long for reprieve.

Life’s mercy has the sweetest hymn.

Inside the calamity of our lives, the black hole seems resolute.

It’s something we starve for – not indefinite serenity, but moments of truth and the supplemental peace.

It seems we’re best friends with what’s wrong and squirm in the face of real love, happiness…calm.

We ask ourselves what’s wrong when it goes right.

We’re so dismantled, we lack proof of higher order assurances.

We’ve blinded ourselves and sights are far from us. We’ve become cloaked inside of this heil, and only tempted by miracles – we don’t even pray for them..

We believe in ourselves more than life supports – we undermine the Supreme Authority – we’re out of touch.

“Make love not war.”

The war is in us.

Black and White left this place and only grey remains – it’s the preferred tempo.

We make our own rules and gratitude is on its way out.

Haze is the maze we fit into.

We’re crowded by success but no one has an answer.

Wicked games we play, but our luck is about to run for the White House.

We’re sucked in and stopped putting up a fight – we gave in to ourselves.

We left the winners’ circle and vogued our way into the relentless… empty.

We couldn’t make our minds up so we went without thought.

We couldn’t stand up so we sat in the stands.

We gave temptation a hug and winked at our demons.

We ran for the first and killed them. The last is overlooked and they’re the ones with the antidote.

We’ve left our second chances on the floor and kicked it around like aluminum.

We don’t think we need help.

Sickness is pacified with men in white coats.

We’re dying to know the truth and we don’t even know it.

We’re longing for rest – we’re unassured, we’re entitled.

We don’t know who we are again.

Please tell us if you can.

Please give us proof that we are who we think we’re not.

Give us the time we can’t stand.

Disorder seems to have the upper hand.