Churning like fresh milk,
my stomach feels the choice.
Two turns in equal state,
the cat inside the box meows.
First, there is Status Quo—
Doing nothing is still one choice.
Second, there is transformation—
Doing more and being another.
Cycles of choice and change,
repeating forever and ever.
A nursery rhyme princess
shrieks my name, dreamlike.

What will a bittersweet reality do?
when love and faith are tainted,
when doubt always cuts through.
A sleepwalk through the day,
and the deluded closes their eyes anew.

What can a bittersweet reality do?
to a mind convicted to its own room.
Seeing the side I've chosen,
becoming what used to make me fume.

And so the storm comes looming in fast,
but not the one from clouds.
The dreams of mine were always big,
but my nightmares are just as vast.

And so the wind welcomes destruction,
and the rain melts my shackles.
A friend is standing before me,
the cause of my reconstruction.