Whispers Of The Wind

It's a symphony of words that fall upon deaf ears

Many people can hear the voice of the wind 

But only a few can understand its language 

Broken we are to holy hymns that rain from heaven 

And blind we are to the street of gold that were promised 

Yet we bathe in the glory of the sun 

Forever free 

Even though we imprison ourselves with pagan implications 

Benevolent, bountiful, and blissful 

Are the ideologies that we manifest 

Creatively,

Inspiring all that wish to dive within our essences  

And to all that wish to listen to the sounds of the wind

Everlasting is the conscious that has been bestowed upon us

And eternally will we strive for life, 

So that in the end we may have a sense of death

For even if we exist as nothing

We still remain as something of absence

And to know if we were nothing 

Would be concept that only the wind could whisper 

~ Tony Paradise's Poet ~