Thoughtstorm
Staring into the abys,
Thoughts hit and miss.
In the blink of an eye,
100 thoughts, have passed on by.
And if you asked what's stored inside
the vault where memories tend to hide,
I'd shrug and say there's not much fun—
they vanish fast, like mist before the sun.
Like scribbles dancing on a page,
or noodles tangled in a cage.
I know where each one wants to be,
but shift the beat or change the tone,
and suddenly I'm not alone—
they scatter, then restart in me.
So I just let the chaos spin,
a storm that rages deep within.
I ride the waves, I let them swirl—
each twist a guide, each crack a pearl.
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