The Wind has Nothing but the Same Words to Whisper

A piece written about the subsequent picture, drawn by John Dyer Baizley.

With her hands, she searches to be felt

Reaching out, but never grasping anything

Hands that aren't formed, smoothly roughened around the edges,

Remind her of where she was when it all began

When her search to be found began

And when she lost the only man she ever loved

 

Her hair whispers lonliness as the wind shuffles its way through the strands

The hands of others taunt her by getting near, but not close enough

To feel what once awakened her from a sleepless stupor

Company that isn't present is never given as a gift

A distant voice says

She turns to look the speaker in the eye

But sees only trees shaking, shivering-alone- from the same

Message that the wind only speaks of

She'll die of a broken heart before she freezes to death

As she stands naked in the middle of storm

Where her emotions collide until her mind is clouded

With sorrow and the rain once falls

"Love, reign over me"

Were the last words she ever said