The Ever Singing Wind (Telling me it's time)

The greedy ice grew over the dead water again, reaching

edacious fingers across the thin reeds and whispering quick

promises through panicked leaves that blew in the, 

ever singing wind. 

Singing sleet across my lilac slapped eyelids while, 

dancing flowers lost their heads because, 

The winter prefers to be in standing control.

As it steals away the light from hour, to ever fading hour

Casting shadows over abandoned rusting childhood bicycles

With trees speaking in hushed voices while their crooked branches

extend to grasp my burnt hair, that floats as tendrils amoung 

The quick, deformed snowflakes running into the cold ground. 

The ever singing wind...

It's telling me to leave, as I'm lying in the frost that 

bites at my bare hands. Telling me It's time to take off 

my shoes and run barefoot away from everything that 

was beautiful and held so much potential in its roots.

Telling me, I'll enjoy the pain of the ice splinters between 

my toes as I sprint from whats come to ache inside of me. 

As I escape from where I know I've been anchored to as 

It turns to ever decaying, dust and ash 

Burnt to the ground, and blown away

In the ever singing wind. 

The End

0 comments about this story Feed