The summer is here, sweet songs come forth maybe there are no more doors, hopefully this is the night of nights.... Let no one kill their rainbows although, the world tries They're not sure of the slow death of time never really letting it go... Cast aside the master of misrepresentation They cannot say with certainty why love that form and always flies away with the eagles of tomorrow that never stays... It was just a patch of summer night warmth upon their skin so sweet as they lay next to the other with flames forming through their minds.. Brooke