The morning warmth the sullen soft smell,
For the times relived of the memories to dwell,
Take a dip into the ocean and flow with the current of thought,
As I breathe I fill in to the sweet smell of wet wood,
Boiling tea and the scent of frozen past melting slowly,
The jumble of colors forgotten and lost in the mist of hope,
A chance that a change will come and sweep us away,
Sitting like a pray ready to be slayed,
And then the droplets of the morning mist break our sleep to make us wide awake,
The horrors of truth shadowed by vacant dreams are shattered open to our naked self,
The rays penetrate silently ripping into our hearts and shoot through our feelings,
What follows is endless misery and conquest of desire,
Some search for closure some search for peace,
There are others, who decide to sit and rather never feel,
Until another gaze is set upon us by another pair of magical eyes,
A circle starts again a motion to fulfill the human life.
