Winds

My winds are embedded down in the earth 
Whispering remorse for having failed
In dwindling the vast ocean 
That I steadily trickled out of hurt 
Till it flew beyond my clutches
Allying with birds faraway in motion
Out of my sight and into the sky
With heaps of wayward emotions
That are too untamed to lie

Life is a bed of roses
Because every rose has its thorn
Spouting blood and drying it up
Like an open-and-shut case
That never actually closes
Your winds are running over here
Fruitless, with nothing to chase
Only to taunt my oppressive stance
Tightroping over my barren lands

When I thought it had all run dry
I should’ve known I would be submerged 
I thought you broke my window
When its doors were already creaking 
Now left in whispers and debris 
In between the space of light and shadow 
I forgive my winds and let it climb high
For I realise my wand was never out my hands
My will has always foreseen my flights and falls