The dripping of the rain

says again the thunder will soon moan.
My heart lays like a maid
who's ready to be her groom's own.
It's a song never sung
It's a dream you'd thought would never come...

It's desire.

The whooshing of breeze

says again my heart is floating.
My soul lays like a mat
on a mosaic of arrows; cupid.
It's a place forget who I am
It's a moment to proclaim who we are...

It's desire.

Storm in my head

ragging, rising, roaring!
Come take my hand
hold me, fold me, own me!
You're the colour of the sky
You're the song I'll always mime...

You're desire.