She boards the stage like a nautical conquest, taking the crowd hostage and demanding attention for ransom. She fires the cannon of bass and lights, neon are her cutlasses and the sense of the thumping flow in her gunpowder. Beads of blood-sweat glistening the flash on the determined face of the fighter, a smile breaks as she unfurls the sails of song, the hounding, pounding waves of noise beat, crest and break wearing the minds of the captives. In ecstasy, the climax of sound, the orgasm of senses, no port yet for her storm.