Nowhere Special (Rhythm of Life Suite)

Featured art by Aleksandar Boskovic

Listen to Nowhere Special by Richard Charles Stevens (Rhythm of Life Suite)

Listen to Rhythm of Life by The Prodigy

Once upon a time, this place set psychedelic scene
Fevered recollections of a mid-September dream
Granted, my proportions often bordered on obscene
But dreamers tend to venture off towards the in-between
Cautionary measures never really made much sense to me
Ostensibly, you’d be correct in calling me naïve
Howbeit, while my starry eyes dressed head up in the clouds
Still my feet were rooted to the ground

Not every road we take is closed
Not every night of sable tone
Not every light ordained to fade
Not every fight irate when thrown
…

Nowhere, and not even so
Realization filled me
Chilled me straight through to the bone
The woods were bare and all the birds had flown from here to there
Yet everywhere my tired eyes came to rest, I felt alone

Light was fading
Night parading customary mystique
Fallen leaves nonplussed amidst the bluster of the breeze
“Someone wake me up” would have appeared the common plea
Yet, oddly I was not even asleep

It had been a choice to leap into the great unknown
This is how I found my voice when skies became more ominous in tone
Not one for reconnaissance
Or other streams of consciousness
That see us bound by consequence and consequence alone
Sooner be anonymous
Than flaunt self-standing dominance
Then ponder why the grace and bloom of all things known has flown

Not every road we take is closed
Not every night of sable tone
Not every light ordained to fade
Not every fight irate when thrown
…

Nowhere, and not even so
Light had faded
Night paraded discomposure long outgrown
Maybe I was on my own
At least, within this moment
Yet, not whence I harked back upon each goodwill softly spoken
Every heart endures its knocks
And some of them get broken
Still, we need not ever feel alone
Only takes one flame to glow
For others to sustain their growth
Matters not if on our own
Only that we make the most
Not every road we take is closed
Not every night of sable tone
Not every light ordained to fade
Not every fight irate when thrown
The woods were bare and all the birds had flown from here to there
I breathed in sweet relief
For I was home