Witch hunt.

Prize fighter with words.
Every verb I've been.
Every sentence I end.
Come along with me.
Let's pretend.

When the wind blows a poet knows it.
then the poem he wrote goes toe to toe with it.
every line he writes magic escapes.
Every syllable is a kite of light in the black and blue fate.
We let our minds wander and let's not wait to ponder more.
What's the score if you're burning at the stake and I'm knocking down your door.
What's more if I'm late I'll settle the score.
I'll resurrect you and stone the floor.
Can there be peace in uncertainty?
Let's rewind.
Can we find the time of day with purity and precise allocation of synergy?
it's all in our minds.

Take a second and a millisecond more.
The fire is still burning so no time to explore.
Townsfolk still yearning to destroy the "what's more".

What is future what is past?
What is the suture for our black and blue mast?
I can save you, lay low.
halo is a consolation prize.
Tell me a secret and look in my eyes.
I'll make sure you never see this untimely demise.
I'll create a black hole outside of your window that flows to rivers deep inside of me no lie a solemn place to hide.
If you confide in me a secret it's deep in my veins and there's a lane change for when it rains.
Live free, let be.
That fire is now deep inside of me.