It's just thee wind

A timeless force has enshrouded all that the conscious mind can conceive

The sullen slither bewitched to quiver which grasp in a fleeting reprieve 

Rejoicing gasp and hope filled clasp you'll find that nothing is there

Intangibly palpable, temperate, infallible, so much, more, aware.

Melancholy the folly, the fluster, the plight; be it by moon or sheathed by light

It cuts into hearths rhythmic sights as oceans befall at kneeling heights

Flowing through silky strands of sin, no keener can be, kinder or kin

In the end, life is where we began, in the end... its just thee.