Sunday Afternoon
There is a warm breeze blowing outside
Sweetly hissing a symphonic melody of spring time.
Gently it rushes from skin to skin
And traverses with the melancholic afternoon.
What could you be doing on this slow day
That makes the senses fall into deep depths of heaviness
Like the muscles filled with stress
And the head in a dark cloud of weariness.
I hope and pray that it will go away
Leave and extinguished like a thirst
And set the spirit and body free
Like they should be....
Sweetly hissing a symphonic melody of spring time.
Gently it rushes from skin to skin
And traverses with the melancholic afternoon.
What could you be doing on this slow day
That makes the senses fall into deep depths of heaviness
Like the muscles filled with stress
And the head in a dark cloud of weariness.
I hope and pray that it will go away
Leave and extinguished like a thirst
And set the spirit and body free
Like they should be....