The rain it sounds,
like a great drum pouning.
Thunder growling,
like a trumpet sounding.
The wind is howling,
the skies are clouding,
the people shouting,
awlays doubting.

The heavens pouting,
pouring rain.
Then calm.
He raises up his palm,
blood rushing through his vain.
The world stops,
and jaws drop,
the monstrous storm is slain.

The sun shines through.
The skies are blue.
Grass sparkles with thin dew,
as everything starts anew.

Sailing by in a boat made of paper
Circus dancers far above the clouds
Trees covered with ribbons
Twisted by the sun

Birds singing forgotten notes
Past reflections of precious moments
Barking at the moon above
Firey breath and fogged up mirrors

Simple words across a page
Gently gliding with the wind
Wicked branches of forelorn beauty
Whispered temptations and unanswered prayers

Drifting slowly under broken bridges
Sailing by in a boat made of paper.