I have a deep and painful wound, the bleeding will not stop; it cuts deep into my mind and makes it wither like a long dead crop.
My fields are often watered, flowers do bloom, but the weeds they eat away at all of my produce, refusing to let it stay.
So, I sway… in the wind, I let it blow through my hair, the wind that I feel shows me that someone truly cares.
I am filled with so much emotion, some of it even rage, nothing feels right, everything feels strange.
The wind that blows acoss my land, flows over my wound and through my crops, everything comes alive, all it took was wind…to make the bleeding stop.