Hurricane.
Look above a thousand trees,
Slowly landed in the world of night,
Laid her on my cold hand
Her eyes to the silent water
Lit by the moonshine,
Black as night over arctic ice
Stomping heels down curved hills
The high peak and the sky of her stare
Where does it start, where does it end
I’m lost in the line between earth and air
She sat with me that day
And as the hour of dawn fell upon her
A sound of music went before my view,
Though we feel but our own beat
So did a peek of landfall grow,
Reflected on the pitch black serene
Feathers of green and locks of gold
Chained the heart of one wild and bold
And among visions of the light that bash my face
The roaring deep of the dark bull struck my ear;
Faint as shade,
Mean as a fist tightly clenched,
Their teeth grind with passion
And may long roads lead its way
Set my sight on the rolling lake
She is seen standing by the summer cascade.
Her soft forehead to the wind
Birds be silent, to hear her sing.
