When anger leaves you alone,
And her smile shivers your bones,
When peace takes over the throne,
Know that a miracle has happen
Every time he; the Tide, contemplates her;
Looking into her eyes,
he secretly wishes every other soul beside them
So, he could finally meet her; the Firestorm.
But alas, he only waits for an eclipse
To wipe the existence of time
Instead of taking a chance himself.
As the wind, riding winter’s broom, messes up my hair
I look up; with sand dunes in my forehead, to the stars
and imagine what it’d be like, to have you beside me.
Your cold hand and that pleasant smell.
This is just a modest fantasy of mine,
an elusive and mystical tale.