With the Wind,
as it blows and tosses your hair,
it whispers and giggles in your ear,
without letting you know
that it's there.

It's forever travelling,
around the world of Man,
so much faster than,
and bullet can.

Let there be some sort of understanding,
between us my friend,
as we listen to the laughter of the wind,
as we run with them for they are innumerable.
Take my hand and run with me,
don't mind the ground,
I promise that it's stable.

But with the wind,
it has no set path,
there's no rhyme or reason,
and it can't be solved with simple math.

It is an entity,
all by itself, [themselves?]
raging as it will,
and forgiving when it wants,
always there,
that sometimes taunts.

I'm afraid you'll lose me yet,
as I run with the wind,
as I try to free myself,
running from my past,
knowing, between the wind and I,
that I have sinned.

With the wind
you'll find me,
my name in a mere whisper,
the air that we breath,
brings me that much closer,
to
her.