A Bitter Spree

Pale turned the bow that blest the sky all that was blue at dusk... did fly, my mind is blurred and now I cry: the mud is dry, the mud is dry. Hope was lost within isles and hills the water splatters on me hot chills felt in a rush, craving pleasure pills: my passion distils, my passion distils. In this cruise, I seek but a lake, to be cocooned like hotcake, yet not sure of what is at stake; give me a brake, give me a brake. The dawn threw in a bait, now I see my heart was hooked by a bee; sweetness exhaled, bitter spree under the tree, under the tree.