Approaching Storm

Running to his death, traveling on the edge of the cliff, trying to hold on to the gap with unsafe wings ya It is so, all these never meet with the tranquility of a coastal town. Yet we must fold mortals to the consequences of this distant kinship established in the spirit of Poseidon, which is hidden in the large body of the calm sea.

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Is there a type of pencil that can be written on the sensitivity earning box when it sees the hurricane in calmness, sensing the approaching storm in calmness?

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We are gathering quietly as brittle brothers. No one is notifying anyone, but we are coming together again on the beach as if they are contracted. Word masters should now be silent; nobody knives his mouth! We are trying to hear our eyes whispering to the horizon and whispering to us that faint line that separates the blues. The skill of flying is complemented by the magic of flying thought. Imbat caresses our face and we smile.