A cicada's circadian cadence dictates
It awakes in the summer
Likewise, I start to buzz and feel alive
Each time I shed my shell, disheveled
To head to a higher level, I hover
As if I must stay stagnant to survive

Finding a habitat, blindly winding
Through this and that 'till I win it
When I see no results, continue searching
For a Niche that facetiously ceases
To seem in my reaches this minute
I do all I can, continue lurching 

Forward!
By my own, can't always wait for your word
Grinding my gears and rolling clockwise
The daily test of time through my eyes
Time is a gift that's in disguise

Affliction with conviction, we
Invent the next best thing
In the event, would you 
Resent the blooming spring
For all the years you could
Amount to what you really wanted

Denied the drive to fight, we might
Accept the cards we're dealt
To interject, would you 
Reject what you would melt for?
Or correct the faults you fell for? For- 

Forward!
Waiting to throw until it's your turn 
Eyes on the board to watch your score burn
By my own, can't always wait for your word
Not alone unless I make it so.

Forward (The Niche)

I am a composer and audio engineer based in Missouri. This is the official destination for recordings of my pieces. Please visit www.FrankNawrot.com for information on purchasing scores for performance or study.

All the early and extra juicy stuff gets posted here...

Forward (The Niche)

H-e Element // HELfire