To unleash the creative monsoon
From within to the extern-ity, oh the irony
Submission, you say?
Funny games words do play
When you ask for people to set free the thoughts in their minds
Using the word that literally defines
Bow down, or set free?
Millions of thoughts swirling inside of me
Leaping towards the empty, blank space
Where my compass says, "thy net will appear!"
Attempting to defeat the fear
That cripples each from within
Captured and held
That intoxicating spell
Bound by the seven of swords.
So if submission is what of us you seek, I’ve discovered, it’s both this way and that.
To bow down and set free
All the thoughts caged up inside of me
Lurching and swirling forward and back
So a submission you want?
I gladly oblige, stranger from Churchill Square
For your request to submit
Has thrown me into a fit of words and release of thought
The end of the lurching forward and back
Always off track
And finally from thought to pen
May the gates open and monsoon enrapture
All that dare to be engulfed
For the divine creative flowing straight through
The heptad inside of you
To the limitlessness
Of the infinite abyss
That each can reach, only if we so dare
For what is there really to fear?
But a simple submission that’s caused recognition
All from having moved a chair.