A poem about the determining of fate and pains of love, rejected and tormenting. The images here are 100% symbolic and are based on a real circumstance very close to my heart. Make of it what you will.


1. Wind


I am the wind.

He, a man as old as time, steps wearily,

Heading away from ancient things.

I, the wind, with a gentle, aching heart,

Follow, letting my breath

Cool his sweating brow.


He approaches a door, looking

As though the weight

Has been lifted off his shoulders.

I call out like an old friend

Yet my words blow past him

As he shivers from my cold.


I am running.

I am no longer the wind,

I feel I am the deer, the hare

The harsh plea and the silent tear.

I am sorry, you were right!

Forgive the wind, old man!


Now you hear the wind,

You, the old man.

You reply but the wind has no ears to hear.

I can’t hear you, old man!

You with the flames burning bright,

Burning and never fading away.


But you do turn from the wind:

Hopelessly, defeated.

You disappear behind the door.

I slam against the barrier,

Battering, wishing I could understand:

Understand you, old man.

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