|
| |
The Haunted Wind Whispers
The whispering wind still calls out my name
With an echoing breeze that haunts me
A mournful reminder of all my shame
That forever will tease and taunt me
Under the watchful dead eyes of the blind
Lies a shadow that tortures my soul
This cloud that carries the voice in my mind
Still follows me wherever I go
In a dark dwelling that houses my fears
A lonely space I cluttered myself
But till the wind dies that howls in my ears
I'll have to place my heart on the shelf
Copyright ©
Randy Freie
|
|