Their plunging heels, will pummel down
To try and knot your head
Life's anvils, casting shadowed crowns
To put your hopes to bed

It's manic rain of darkness falls
Along our chosen paths
But we must never stumble
In it's angry fields of wrath

We mustn't stymy in the roads
Or linger like a goatee
Cause if we do, like sitting poo...
We'll pay like Wile Coyote

Depression, angst, and crushing loss
Will try to yield our courses
Below the phantoms' darkened gloss
Unshielded to their forces

But we are poised olympians
Behind the starting line
With jet-propellers to our backs
Our eyes are set, refined

Much knowledged of the challenges
That stagger on the cliffs
Those leathal, subtle hinderances..
We feel their sonic riffs

Toes readied...on the roads of life
We listen for the gunner
Ears keener than a cutting-knife
"Mee-Meep!" cries-out roadrunner