Master

Where they see brick walls we see windows.

Wherever it’s dark, we are the widows.

Mother Earth is your playground, but she is our pasture.

The Devil they call evil, we call master.

I was always different from everybody else.

I am nothing like the others, I can never tell if it’s respect or if they’re afraid of me. I’d like to believe I’d find someone different, but they’re all just fishies in an itty-bitty pond full of crocs like us.

Show me otherwise, until then they’re all the same to me.

When the rest of the world raptures, we house a new rift.

Seems like a curse to them, while to us, it’s a gift.

The days that go by, to some go by faster.

In darkness you’re a drifter, while we are its master.

All my goodness came with a level of bad.

Every aspect of existence has blessings that come with degrees of hell on Earth, no opinion, this is a fact.

There’s always a reason for the season, but to balance, not to attack.

When everything’s gray, we become blacker.

It falls within choice who is the student, and what is the master.