Fingers pulling at my hair
The wind is back again
All blue and silver and wild and free
I missed my lifelong friend
But where was the white light
When I needed it so badly?
With the devil stroking at my back,
The fire growing madly
The purple flecks upon the eyes
Of the innocent and broken
Magic can rarely be retained
And even rarer be spoken
Engulfing me in white and gold
A reminder of the dreamland
The memory is fading now
Sinking in the quick sand
The fingers are pulling harder now
This wind is not my old friend
A trick, a fiend, a clever con
To rip my beating heart wide open