Modern Society: A Concept.

There's a light in my head, it's spinning and so, naturally, I spin with it. It is rhythm, I am melody, the chorus was left behind some time ago. Arms propelled upward, reaching for the sky and spinning, spinning, spinning. The rain hits the hot ground and the light keeps turning, keeps turning me around and around as it goes. The water turns to ash and the ash covers the ground, then me, then everything. And as soon as it begun, it stopped, like it was never there at all. And the light continues to rotate, I continue to rotate. Buds spring up in the cracks of forgotten pavement and blossom into all original pieces. Some I recognize, others that are foreign. A flower, a child, my family, the best thunderstorm you'll never get to hear. In circles I go, to the rhythm of the light.. spin, just spin, what else can you do?