That May Day

That bright summer afternoon, no orange sun to see, Warm lights through doors it stepped in like a crowd. A warm loo sweep through the door went flung open, It murmured voices so strange, so undesired. I had my head down bench and rimmed through past, 'Yet the may day I not wish the same' I heard my voice. Though wisdom had no answer, no fresh did I saw, The warm sets declared and here grimmed a nightmare. Ill face no swarm to fly, no bird to chirp, Little gems that fallen and crushed levy haven. Dried red lips of mine murmured 'Yet the may day Had the sun rose through west I not wish the same'. And monday morning today is cool, Expedition of what sun to see, its orange. Silver sky and me eyes far away the view, Its clear as pearl threads from heaven. At last my way is clear, not the way it disappear, In the breeze so fresh and drizzle frizzle. At last my feet can step where destiny doesn't want to, In the time of mine and none of other, the way I want to.