Wind surrounds me, the world is a blur
Now I know confusion
And I cannot escape this prison
The wind will not allow me
Colors erase from my mind
Existence and truth daunt me
What am I?, What is this?
"Black is the absence of color"
So why do I see color in the darkness
Blinded the wind erases and fabricates
Everything!
So when it lets up and fades away
Nothing is there
My very presence is unnoticeable
Yet I can define and sustain the "Me"
That is "here"
Have I died?...
No, I just realized
The clocks stopped spinning
