Winds From Other Places

This is a revised and further worked on piece which I uploaded earlier. deleted prior post beforehand.

-

-

​

The wind won't leave me alone.

Whispering sweet nothings in my ear

it rushes over the hills

And through my windows

From places which I cannot see.

-

Why do you walk on such an hour?

What lures you forwards

Drunken Bastard,

To this field of orange,

Where flowers sprout from the past?

-

“Tweet… Tweet!”

There is nothing above

Only the passages below

Which give refuge from the flaming sky”

-

There is a boy who sits underneath the Almond Tree,

Picking the dirt and leaves from the earth

As the ants pull at them.

He kills them.

-

“Who is the third who walks beside you?”

He asked, as we all began to spiral down.

-

She was sick today.

She was sick every day.

She never stops.

We used to be happy,

You put on your makeup and

Your perfume and

Your dress and

I went to work and we were

Happy

-

"Hmmm hmm... hmmm hmm..."

There is no meaning,

Where is the meaning?

I haven't found It here nor there,

There is no burial of the dead.

-

"Oh, but that that doesn't matter now, does it?

We have tried to move forwards

But you were to damn stubborn

To see the changes.

I am the contrivance

And the wind whispers sweet nothings in my ear

And yet I still haven't found It"

-

And if it’s quiet in this clean,

Well lighted house;

I sit and listen,

And I can hear Him in the walls,

“Dena, Daya, niyantran”

He left long ago when We changed.

-

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/99639k/medicine_for_restless_boys/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/99480n/who_she_is/