my eyes have seen the morning blazing,
enduring the brightness of a universe opening,
mine are the hands arriving from around the corner,
opening the door like a volcano fire arriving,
red and yellow light searing through glass,
yet the time has come to brave it out there,
from the depths of the arctic to the lava flavored air,
under the yellow ball of turture above,
nothing effects like this temperature does,
consuming things which can tame that
tension-filled boiling point rising,
if there were waterways around they would disappear,
often the search for wind is pointless,
need to get together in this way and
stay capable to the agony
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