Music sometimes paints a picture worth a thousand colors flowing like a river of haze into an abyss of darkness.
Broken promises are all hits and misses over glass strewn onto tracks given no quarter plain as jaded righteous deans, were you even elated.
Beating hearts beat like bongo drums into some far off night when the sun lays down from its summit glide a surfers barrel ride.
Sand running through the fingers as the breeze brushes the hair mingling colors and sound into wisdom waves of memory held as tight as the sand of time.
Four lines of constant motion from abyss to oblivions bliss sealed with a stolen kiss snatched into existence by some unknown fish.
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