Obsidian Drive

Rain on the glass, a silver wash, erasing the view.
But clarity blooms, a truth I must now see through.
A tangled knot, this old pattern, slow to unwind.
Ancestral whispers calling, leave no more behind.

[Chorus]
This thread, it's cut, a new design takes hold.
Hands on the wheel, a story yet untold.
The engine hums, a steady, pulsing beat.
A mended seam, where purpose and freedom meet.

The porch light glows, an indigo memory, soft and low.
But that vibrant dye, it no longer makes my spirit glow.
My palms remember warmth, a touch I used to crave.
Now the obsidian night calls, a different future to engrave.

[Chorus]
This thread, it's cut, a new design takes hold.
Hands on the wheel, a story yet untold.
The engine hums, a steady, pulsing beat.
A mended seam, where purpose and freedom meet.

[Bridge]
This resilience, a gift from sun-baked clay and ancient stone.
To weave my own future, to stand here all alone.
But alone means whole, a vibrant, singular thread.
A new horizon dawns, where old sorrows are unsaid.

[Outro]
My hands are steering, past the ephemeral pain.
Into the sun, I drive, through the cleansing rain.