The supernova is reaching it's arms out into the cosmos

I am lucky to be the arrangement of it's chaos

I wonder why I am here 

Why are we all so self unaware?

We all share the same air

We all write our story on the dirt 

In a flash of blood and glory

I am always dissenting 

I am never relenting this stoic aspiraton 

The artist facing passion and despiration 

Behind eyes of etherial dust 

I contemplate the line of love and lust 

I keep telling myself 

Something has got to come from this hell

Unsung heroes are always trying to challenge their ghosts

It is so misleading 

When their presence is fleeting 

I am left haunted by the stories left untold

I am restless still searching for streets of gold

I