With a soft brushstroke,
Serenity overthrows,
The rainiest days.

The mixing hues seem,
Like they'll carry me away,
Through the mud and rain.

When our time runs out,
Our hopes and prayers defeated,
Copying our past.

Our thoughts fly away,
And leave us with the pieces,
Of our broken path.

When you're all alone,
They beauty demands the touch,
Of an artist's soul.

Heart and soul vanish,
As painting dreams grasps my thoughts,
And my mind is lost.

With these rainy days,
My thoughts wonder right to you,
The man in the past.

*This is an original song: all rights reserved