A Last Summer Storm
(Ricardo Hoffmann)

There are summer storms in the
Tousled hair of divided, fighting gods
The rain covers the beloved’s lovely brow
In her arrogant, stalking face
While she is fading gently
Where beauty is history
And arrogance reality

The nights of youth are agonizing and long
While consuming the older ones’ tales
Who tell their visions of mad fever dreams
In a true frenzy of passion
Tell me about the strange ways you walked
Before desperation visited your house

There are summer storms in the
Tousled hair of divided, fighting gods
Tell me about pain and the hopes
Of a childhood’s outgrown soul
Give me your older looking hands
Into my legend book of common kind

So we enjoy the last summer storm
In the tousled hair of
The children of the gods
A common striving in all oriels
Of our scarred, callous soul