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.
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