Sunset comes to early, and I haven't seen the rain

My little moroccan sunrise, shining right through his kaleidoscope eyes.
Glimmering green, with a hint of blue, shocking the dying moonlit floor.
They say time does not matter, because the wind always flows, and the clouds always grow, and the raven always crows.
They say age is just a number, because the moon always lights the river, and we always accidentally step on a rover, and we always fight to be a survivor.
As the dusk comes and wash away the remains of the day, I kneel before the universe, with my eyes closed, and whisper to the wind to say hello to my moroccan sunset.