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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 ~




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