The Wind
The wind, it whispers willful words/
The most morose I've ever heard/
It brings its blackness to the brain/
And drives the mind out from the sane/
Demons screaming in the wind/
Can you hear their voices?
Don't let them in/
They'll invade you,
and slay you
from within/
So just try to ignore
your crawling skin/
If they see you,
they'll bleed you,
It's nature's whim,
So just wade where the wind
won't be let in/
The wind, it whines to the weakly willed,
Those akin to the kind it's killed/
Deriving darkness from the depths,
Of the failed who tried their best/
feeding on the weary parts/
Of a lonely human's heart/
Finding pain they hold within/
Every time they feel the wind/
Demons screaming in the wind/
Can you hear their voices?
Don't let them in/
They'll invade you,
and slay you
from within/
So just try to ignore
your crawling skin/
If they see you,
they'll bleed you,
It's nature's whim,
So just wade where the wind
won't be let in/
Copyright © Bo Vigoren | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment