The Thunder

Can you grasp the thunder? Can you hide its flashes from an overflowing river? Can you pay your river Life a hideous win? Can you call yourself a mercenary who is stained? I want to tag you under the umbrella of twisted fame, I want to hide you between the mischievous game, I want you to quit the possession you adore the most, Your appearance on every stage is just like a blissful ghost. You want to attain prospectus fame, Thunder is always a strikingly fanciful name. You wish to call it by your name, You want to dedicate yourself to a superficial aim. Can your audience watch out for your audacity? To you, the river is always an auction house of unbridled necessities. To run from the light is to embrace the nightlife, To live in the darkness is quite a harsh dive. I want to present you a few drops of nectar from my sorcery, Do you wish to call it your dazzling supremacy? Do you want it to be the cockiness of a fleeting river? You are nothing but a callow diver.