Wave
On the northern rock
Where waves fall like the first dream
We shall meet again
 
 
Senses
If you were a colour I could see
You'd be the colour red

If you were a sound that I could hear
You'd be a gentle wave

If you were a flavour I could taste
You'd be the sweetest bread

If you were a fabric I could touch
You'd be the softest silk

If you were a scent that I could smell
You'd be a rose full bloom

For all of these senses do betray
The rare beauty that's you
 
 
Art
Arabian art
And the violet sunset
Both capture my heart
 
 
Mode
The void within speaks of a time
When people lived a life of rhyme
Delayed are those, the kind that think
That they are most significant

No logic, sense or peace of mind
In what they do, defeat they'll find
Delivered from the ideal mode
You shall be if you walk this road

Eternal farms of cultured soil
Wrapped are their heads in hats of foil
For coming now as it has then
A storm become the value ten

A surreal influx of red moons
Adapted from the ancient runes
Sit down, relax and watch the show
For all of this ends tomorrow