The Wind

The wind,

Carrying away the command,

just before it's heard,

The Wind,

Whipping at my skin,

until I feel like I'll never be warm again.

Though the wind,

through the rain,

over the mountian,

away from my home.

I doubt I'll ever return.

I don't even know if I will survive.

The Wind.

Howling like wolves.

Pulling me further,

away from the life I knew.

The life I knew,

with my brother so sweet and kind,

with gentle breezes.

singing a song.

This wind

it is evil,

Hateful,

a murderer.

I don't know what picks me up,

the wind,

or someone else.

But I walk

and walk

and walk,

and walk,

and walk...

This is a poem about someone leaving their home as a captive. I don't know at what time, I just wanted to work on a story through a poem.