The wind blows westward...
Simply sitting and staring,
Staring as each minute withers,
Withers in utter despair...
My eyes bloodshot and dry,
Yet the tears flow in constant pace,
My eyes sunken deep within my head,
Yet I cannot see what I am feeling.
My body is calm, yet I lay shaking.
My mind resolute, yet I cannot control.
My soul is screaming, yet I cannot say a word.
My loved ones are pleading,
But I do not know what is wrong...
The old fellow on the bench
Simply waves me over,
I part myself from friendly guests,
He sits me down and blows silent wisps.
His cigarette burns,
His eyes glisten slightly,
He's hands are trembling,
As his lips release smooth smoke.
I do not know why
I felt such placidity,
When simply sitting with this stranger.
When It seems my thoughts,
Were simply, the only real danger...
Now the wind blows eastward...
We simply sit and stare,
Stare as each minute thrives,
Thrives on in utter tranquility...
