As each brush that paints the canvas,
Is a first stroke to a passionate fire begun,
Its blaze sings an old melody,
That was forever forgotten.
A unique comfort surrounds me,
With the warmth of the morning sun.
I pick up my broken pieces with awe,
Mending me whole as if I was broken.
A silent rush sets in the air,
The waves are still in desire.
Submitting to the lone island,
I stare stardust above my head.
The cosmos beams I get consumed with,
Welcomed me with open arms.
Beneath the open blue sky I weep,
Staring through the night till I sleep.