The Wind Hangs Heavy

Description of a Lonely Moment

When the night is young and the moon is hung on high,

the wind hangs heavy upon my soul.

The depth of solitude envelopes me,

and the wind quickly whispers to me.

The solid darkness of the sky above,

the cold touch of the ground below.

I try to see myself in reflections past,

but I see only that shadows are cast.

As I search for the answers I seek,

the questions only grow in my soul.

The Wind hangs heaviest in this night,

it clouds my soul as well as my sight.

A blind man searches for a reason,

among the wreckage of a world lost.

His hands are callous from his journey,

his soul damned to an eternal yearning.