Synthetic background

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The whirlwind is not in the air nor in the tree,

The storm rages inside, none can hear the thunder

Or see the lightning bolts that deafen and blind me,

Or feel the dark coldness that lies deep down under

This raging sea of Rhye; I feel the end is nigh,

My body is drifting, my mind is on a high,

My soul is wandering in wonders of the sky,

There is nothing to try, it is time for goodbye…

So many possibles, new pathways to explore,

A hundred thousand lies and to each a deep lore,

The weather’s achanging: sun, rain, alternating,

Hellow to you dear friends, excuse me for waiting!

.

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