A child drew a league of orange trees a fire brewing amidst a turbulent sea a glass reflecting a transparent bunch of yellowish unruly green grass, in place of a pencil he had used his pain to color the blazing land of vermilion wonder. Two daughters sat under the blazing Sun the moon like a mother gifted an invisible coat that could barely hide the horse taking the ride. So many colors flooded the frame reflection of vulture seemed insane an artistic piece drenched in destructive Harley kissed the life with a new shade but fortunately the vitality did not fade, novelty massacred as the hurricane hurled the north sea froze in challenge with the Saharan sand, now I wish to have my own band.