Morning sun, marching to the beat of its own drum
Whispering of a path, illuminating rays
Beckoning me towards salvation
Afternoon heat, forged by an afterthought
Burning my eyes to cinders
Blind to my own direction
Evening glaze, slowly closing my eyes
Imagining the past, soft, silky, memories
Losing myself in the possibilities
Midnight stars, dancing in the night
Sweet summer escape, dare I taste the moment
The smallest hours, forever adored
A beautiful memory.