Carve me a sculpture of your soul
And on a perfect pitch black night
I’ll use eternity to recognise it.
With a sweeping palm stone flow,
On sculpted winds of the infinite,
I’ll move on you without permission.
All forgotten, every space unforeseen
Just everlasting grooves of me and you
Nature bound to the end as we were the start,
Growing, satisfied as roses in their every hue.