The Heavy Wait

Unwavering Instrumentals Of Silence and Snow Address Us In Cool Flurried Fragments Casting Plaster Paragraphs Of Quite Notes Which Lay, Quilting Georgia Flats And Other Places In Need Of No Great Equalizer For True Turbulence, There is none. A Make-shift White Washed World Momentarily Cleaned of impurities A soft Caucasian Solace To be muddied by Sullen Shoes Tracks of progression Translate into streams Of Colored Chorus And malevolent reward Melt down into Moth-Eaten Mistakes Classic Chords of Speculation With great intent, Comes unclaimed consequences That the disciples of silence Will surely be back To Once Again Incubate. Beautiful yet Sinister, Like Your First Slowly With No Emotion, The Composition Stacks Bit by Bit Rhythmically putting weight On that which will Happily fall.