The Wind

A man leaps from a tower's edge And plummets to the ground. His eyes are closed; his hands are clean. He only wants to hear the sound Of wisdom of the wind. The seconds slow as he descends. Floor by floor, he trickles down. A sense of peace surrounds him so That he could see the city drown In wisdom of the wind. He sees his image fall with him Along the tempered glass. A fighter for a worthy cause. "At least that's what he thought he was," Says wisdom of the wind. "I've seen this man do heinous things. It's good that he jumped off. The world's a better place because This man has given up his life To me," so screams the wind. "But, as he's falling to the earth, I think I feel a tear. Now why would such a wicked man Have anything at all to fear, While falling through myself?" "I think I'll just sit back and watch This monster die tonight. There might be something hiding from My ever-present, clever sight That glides through all the wind." The man continued falling down Until he reached the street. A car swerved by the sudden splash. The driver ran from the concrete To speculate the scene. The corpse is resting in the road Amongst a pile of leaves. A picture, then, falls from the sky. This picture of a freshened grave, Blown in by the wind. On the back, the message writ: "Here lies my little girl. She was my life, my hope, my all. And now that she has left this world, I guess I'm leaving, too."