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Unaware of the firing motion The moon reflects in her glazing eyes Solitary motion distills the summer days Transparent figures move in the burning sunrise Subtle movement in the deep blue haze The moon rejects to her suprise The summer days begin to hussle Memories twinkle upon the next phase The stars are forced to light the night While the wind gracefully dances through her hair The summer is coming to an end But everything around is blissfully unaware Unaware of the firing motion The moon reflects in her glazing eyes Solitary motion distills the summer days Transparent figures move in the burning sunrise That summer will hold those memories forever Her many adventures with the wind and the moon A new summer is sneaking up for its next attack Everything is brand new again, and so Unaware of the firing motion The moon again reflects in her glazing eyes And just like before, the solitary motion distills the summer days And transparent figures move in the burning sunrise Transparent figures move in the burning sunrise ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Towel and flesh blend in the actual color, skin dankly bejeweled, the center of what is clean, wrapped in fragrance, like it is issued by man of his mortal hands, touching the air and material. Life? much of it is secured beyond the sight of nakedness, a truer sight. But within this shedding bears a deepening, an awakening of years, a Hibiscus mood. Receptors function - from the city of me, inside; the chest is the city, the nucleus, revealing this skin. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A storm is brewing on the Horizon of my soul. Even though the sun is shining, I can feel the distant drums of thunder. As they rumble inside my heart. Flashes of Lightening strike and tear at my very being. My hands shake as if they were, the trees leaves trembling on their limbs. I know the forcast isn't good. Yet I hope for better weather. How long can a soul live in the eye of a storm? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~