Shunned At A Funeral - Dust, Thunder

Screaming
I'm dusting my hands, dusting my lungs
Built of tomorrow, borrowed from one.
I bend
I break, I bruise, and
I blunder.
I'm
Dusting the waiting, dust and the wonder
I'm dust on the road, dust on the tongue, but breath still comes and the song isn't done.
Weakness
Whispers, "You're going under." But power wakes up where faith is thunder hEY tHUNDER
HEAD OF THE DUST, we rise thunder