Release.

Blue and green, inside a stream,
of stars and dust in lotus hands.
serenity, in a voice that spoke,
of looking after me once the dam's broke.
An image planted in my brain,
to keep me grounded as i spun insane.
The twisted messenger heard my plea,
he tried to give a reason to me.
'In order to be a re-port-er,
you have to be at the site of war'
Red and black, they show their face,
asking a question, an answer they chase.
They try and make me shun the green,
by offering the unheard, unseen,
fame and fortune I heard them say,
but green for me, is the only way.
I have a net, to catch me when I fall,
I will fly with green, with green I will crawl.