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Winds - poem

As the wind abides by the verity,

The trees follow along,

The flowers and their prey seek refuge,

I chase my dreams on the other end,


A hook between reality and delusion begins to rust,

The grasp of the lords begin to loosen,

The birth of trust had flourished in their hearts,


By then my love and lust for my passion may die,

My soul may be sold for the devils comfort,

And I may wish to wind took me with it,


But I will always reside back to my beginnings,

To where the song blooms,

To where the poets cry,

To a sanctuary in which nobody else can understand,



When the time comes, the darkness will blend with the rest,

And I will be gone with the wind,

With the trees,

With the flowers,

With my hope,

With my dream


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