The Wind and I

The trees are swaying in the wind;
Now once again I journey on my way.
This time to a place where no longer I will bend,
The night seeps in and takes away the day.

The wind knows my name;
The trees seem to be sighing.
The wind is whispering a warning,
It speaks of an evil that’s undying.

I wish that I could stay here;
But no longer can I wait.
For even such a man as I,
Cannot escape his fate.

The above poem was inspired during personal reading that struck a cord with me. I wish I could remember what, when, or where I was reading so I could give you more context, background, or thanks on these thoughts. My poetry, finally coming back to me, seems to be dark these days.

One Response to “The Wind and I”

  1. While dark, still moving.
    You have always had a way with words…

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