Kites of Spring

I recall the memories of those golden hours Against the still backdrop were movements, too distinct on the fly the flimsy strings carried power guided by the songs the winds had cried. kites of spring, kites of spring eyeing for the crest of Sun freedom is never bought or sold expressionless, by the moves of wind till i decide to make my run. I loosen the reels, and watch it own till it finds freedom, unbound, and i end up with my sidelines turned with the sad reminder, that i have grown for in between the language of fingers a stick of white, shortens and burns the definable moments that i once owned. cigarette swells, and whiskey days a special brand of tear-tinged-alcohol No aerials float in my sky today too busy blaming my own damn fault. kites of spring, kites of spring eyeing for the crest of Sun a flimsy string, or a smoke filled sky till breaths betray, on my run. kites of spring, kites of spring eyeing for the crest of Sun freedom is never found in burns expressionless, by the moves of wind till i decide to make my run. [repeat]