The night the Rhymer went whack

It’s not what you say, but how you say it.

“Can’t you see I set you free? I brought you to the light,” Nick lyrically eased to the formed crowd. Rapists and bloodied murderers had assembled, knowing who Nick was. Guns and sharpened knives in full view, anticipant of a bloody battle with each one believing that they alone would be the last one standing. But Nick stood on that stage in front of that mic with a different vision and a different plan. And with the same lyrics, he changed the tone and pitch and ultimately, the outcome. Finally, he belted out his signature title and the crowd silenced, disturbed only by the clicking of guns and knives dropping onto the pavement.

With tears flowing, the miscreants embraced one another. Some crying for the first time in their lives overcome with emotions. The elderly, present with the expectation of death, now found a renewal of life and they also shed tears as if they hadn’t cried in years, now remembering the peace tears brought as they summoned the goodness from their distant past.

The rain that poured for days following his mother’s death had given Nick an idea—always have the concerts near water. A pond, a lake, a river or the ocean, because a cleansing needed to happen. He finished his performance and right after the silence, the crowd felt compelled to race to the lake, stripping their clothes, their demons and unrighteousness in the process. They excitedly jumped in, not euphorically but like little kids, laughing, splashing and washing their sins away. Joyful they were, some seen being dipped in baptismal fashion blissfully partaking in the sun rays and newness Nick had bestowed.

He ultimately took his talents on the road just like before, visiting as many places globally and producing the same effect through bathing his fans in rectitude and cleansing the world of the turmoil that had beset. And eventually, the entire world was anew.

Everywhere.