Hitting the fan,
Spinning out of control.
Anger hazes the air,
tears have no phaze in
the mixed drink created
by words and body language.

Most sounds are over
rated yet there is always
the select few that will
rape your ears, and
sears the sicken soul.

Yes these sounds take
there toul and crack the
back of all living humans. Tears,
tears, tears, scream from the face.

Eruptions, explotions,
expose the instinc to
fly over the fire created
by the raping of sounds.

Let us all be deaf and free.
Heal the ill-soul and
don't justify the sounds that
you made, you caused the soul to
be battered and bruised.

Black and blue, and sickly
yellow taints this old soul
and wilts like flowers in fall. If
you could only see how you
destryed this ice swan,
with your dragon breath.