The wind that shakes the trees
Blows through my coat,
Lifts up the tails
As if to gloat;
"I am free."

The wind that beats these window panes,
The voice that calls this pain again;
"You're indignant to fate," they said.
But I cannot accept their breaded promisings,
My thoughtless relinquishings
Of lost, listless, loving tales
Grown stale in my thumping heartbeat
Beaten by stalling, broken, dreams.

The wind that shakes these trees,
Blows me away with the leaves.