Rage

Rivers rage and the rapids flow,
Music calms me like a tragic soul,
That is something I got the fetish for,
Let me get high
Let the magic soar,
It is, if it is at least known,
Now my soul is that little grown,
This is what keeps me grounded on cloud 9,
And I come back when escalators are fine,
Almost nothing rhymes,
and I find inspiration in torrid times,
When my fake smile shows, all seems fine,
I discover a planet
And say its mine*

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