I break the logical positive, being one who has walked a path below.
Outside, people outcast me as a cloud full of rain, but they will need when the storm arrives.
Pain cascades through every bit of my existence, better I know what it feels like when the floods of your essence break thier banks, the only love I can give you understand or accept.
Hatred in mind because I despise my station as the field mouse hates being a blind catch for a hungry predator.
Breaking the spells of this world you see shining because I’ve only seen the dull ache of time and entropy, and have yet to see anything bloom full.
Remember when the history proves it out, either way you remain happily oblvious and here I am, haunted by repeated experience, chomping at the bit that never gives.