Rock

In my way comes a fuss A thundering of marches, In my world yearns a departure A flee from it all. With a strength of fulfilment Comes a job for my headset, Soft in motion a tune For my beautiful lily world. A genre of instrumentality Softly played with an ease, A match of Saul's fulfilment In David's soothing lyre. Now a feeling of conquest As I safely conquer the world, My path a field fertile As with life comes delight. Is it something about its guitar Or the way it feels in my head? Is it thy passionate undertone As though a bombshell, drops? For with me comes no competition For I'm stirred by a Trojan horse, My mind's profound of peace In my explicit genre of rock.