Poetry

The Howling Wind

November 10, 2014

My heart feels like an empty desert,
Nothing to hear but the whimpers of the wind.
It’s empty and alone,
Sick and thin.

My heart waits to be full again.
It waits for health to return.
During the day, it burns with heat.
But at night, it shivers.
It’s cold.

The silence is overbearing.
It’s scary, in fact.
One day, my heart’s a jungle
Full of vines and exotic life.
The next, it’s a dried-out desert
Stricken with drought and death,
No hope in sight.

All that’s left is the crying wind,
Alone and sad,
Full of misery.

– ylf –

 

This poem was inspired by “Gusts of Wind Blowing in Different Directions” by The Last Dinosaur.

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