it's a climbing through a labyrinthine subjection
in a devastating journey in my depravation
into depreciation of the exportation of my annihilation
it's a one way of making you stop
it's the ball struck by the club
it's the sandhill smashed by the wave
it's the deer being trapped in a cave
it's the insult in your rejection
recreated into my adoration
a fortification of determination in my submission
it's a one way of making you cease
it's the battering paused by the please
it's the sunbeam burning the skin
it's the fist striking the chin
and it's the look in the eye of the hangman
as the axe flashes through the air
or the puppet-like dangling of the dead man
as the crowd continues to stare
and the rapid heartbeat of the hunted deer
as the wolfs are chasing the scent of its fear
it's a one way of making you stop
dried-up soil touched by a raindrop
a screaming transformed to a sigh
something kept low lifted high
a darkness driven away by a light
something wrong made right
in a struggle to be released of the spell
in the battle between Heaven and Hell