Summer blues
In days of thunder,
A man of sound,
Ripped my mask,
Caressing me loud.
In daring wording, he slapped my armour.
Provoking my manners,
Playing the charmer.
Thus, witnessing the most unexpected disruption,
Dipped in his cheeky pokes,
With his gaze caused a fracture,
A psychedelic overdose.
Defiant, sassy, with impertinent looks
He touched my horizon with his musical hooks.
He opened me curiously, with his eye of the heart.
With his fluid riffs
Because he's a piece of art.
His humour broke my sorrow
His touch...earthquake on my skin
He made me forget there is tomorrow
For what I like the most lies within.
His guitar ...submissive, but free,
Moulded by his shivering fingers,
Completed his embrace with me,
Making his inner sound linger.
And his forest of hidden dreams,
Captive in a cage of his soul,
Only in music he wanders and feels
The rest is shrouded into a deep unknown.
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