The Tempest

The Brewing Storm] The ocean’s a tempest, bubbling and churning An angry witches' brew, violently turning The sky is a bruise, black and blue in the night And I’m losing the signal, I’m losing the light Is there a ghost of a chance we’ll survive the surge? Or are we just standing on the edge of the verge? The question is... has the die been cast? Is this the wreckage of a broken past? Or is there room to change, one more chance to advance To rise above the waves and overcome this circumstance? One more lasting dance. When the morning breaks, we’ll see the scars of the w*r Endless destruction washing up on the shore Some will start over, a Herculean task Tearing away the debris and the mask While others will turn, watch it smolder and burn Leaving the ashes with nothing to learn. We both threw the stones, we both drew the b***d Now we’re standing knee-deep in the rising flood But when the sun hits the ruins of this hurting place Maybe we’ll find an even larger space To build it back stronger, beautiful and deep A promise that even the thunder can’t keep. The question is... has the die been cast? Is this the wreckage of a broken past? Or is there room to change, one more chance to advance To rise above the waves and overcome this circumstance? One more lasting dance.