A storm beyond what eyes can see,   but read my palm till the end.    Deafening smoldered persistence,   a rift never destined for mend.      A somber lament insignificance.   Lines traced in your eyes, no repent.    Horizons of fire dance with gypsy intent.      Lustfully, wisdom blankets our eyes    hypnotized by fires inside.   A vessel unearthed and burning   and learning to burn alive.      A sway of hand has taken our sight.   Tint of drum, hint of light.