I have the world in my hand.
I repeat it,
I have the world in my hand.
I repeat it as a statement, not a poetic metaphor,
I say it because I see opportunities and I see the doors.
The world rests on my hand of composure,
The pinky is vanity,
The ring restless lust,
The middle is justice,
The index is trust,
The thumb...
The apex of the hand; the human body.
The fragment that allows me to clutch your surroundings.
The thumb...
The thumb is logic.
The thumb is key in our survival.
All of these rest on a palm of principles.
And in my hand of composure I clutch,
Your world...
My world.
The world...
It rests in my hand and the world sleeps.
Im careful not to wake it as it rests by my feet.
