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.