The wind,
She is wild and uncontrollable.
Many do not see her struggles.
She only lets you see, when she wants you to.
Angry, she can destroy,
Rip apart even her beauty within.
In gusts and whirlwinds,
Treasures become dilapidated.
Hate and self loath,
Is lashed out upon silent fields.
Numb, still, and quiet.
She dare not move,
For if she does, chaos is released.
Holding her breath,
Precious creatures of the wood frolic about.
She noticed that if she stays upkeeped,
There is joy in the world.
Continually holding her breath,
She slowly dies inside.
The knowledge of death creeping just around the corner,
Drives her mad.
Wanting to lash out,
She takes in a deep breath.
Then collapses,
For it is too late.
Goodbye wind.
