The Wind

A Poem by 4ammonologues

dragged blues and silvers into your hair;
Pushing along low-hanging clouds.
Chasing us.
I dropped indications of childish fears
Into your palms --
droplets of golden frost.

But honestly,
It was nothing she couldn't have devoured.
Nothing she wouldn't have torn apart.
She took us by our coats
And tore at our hearts;
Pouring us into cold landscapes,
Seeping into our souls.

We stood in subtle ecstasy;
Unable to call these gray mountains
Home.
But nonetheless,
feeling contempt
with the wind swallowing us whole,
with our souls being ripped to pieces.

Today the wind showed no mercy.