sometimes the winds never let go
but carry on an endless flow
it’s hard to touch and hard to hear
the droning sound that soars so near

if i could push them back to sky
and use their strength to rise and fly
i wouldn’t hate the winds with ire
if they could fuel a flaming fire

instead they’re cold and harsh and real
nothing like a dream surreal
nothing like i first imagined
when in my mind this all happened.

fantastic dreams are all i see
full-on sun in front of me
but reality can’t be swept away
by winds of seasonal display.