Riding the Wind, Continuum

I feel my anger rise up, quite nearly out of control,
Fueled by time and space and stories I haven’t told.
The motivation that drives me that I don’t understand.
(But does it only feel hot contained in this little can?)
I will go ahead. I will tell myself no.
My life is moving too slow.
There’s places I want to go.
I want to feel like I’m not spending every waking minute
Fighting with the damn world, trying to make my way in it.

I look at where I am and I clench my fist.
A voice in my soul says “You are better than this!”
And in a place so deep I can’t begin to describe
A fire consumes me and it will not die.
Is it fueled by love or does it burn on hate?
Are there tiny bits of me that I’ll negotiate?
They say it’s love that makes this funky world go ‘round,
But there are days it rings out with a hollow sound.
Days that love is lost and it cannot be found.
When the fox finds out it can’t escape the hounds.
When the devils henchmen go to make their rounds
And they take what you’ve done and they hold you down.
Now you feel like you’re standing, piss in the wind.
Like you’re guilty but you never did commit the sin.
Like the weight of the world will keep you down and then
You will slowly sink down into the lion’s den.
But I will not die. I will not back down.
From the demon whispering “forsake your crown.”
You will find me pushing with my last breath,
Bastard son I am, of the carnal flesh.
And while you sit and shake under shadow cold,
Though I feel the pain, I will not be sold
To the shiny mold that shapes up the soul
And tells only the tale it desires to be told.

So you find me running and a’ running and a’ running a pace
At which the mortal men fall down and hide their face.
Go ahead and tell me all about my sins,
But tell me how you catch the one that’s riding the wind.
Riding the wind