What the wind blows a grave distance traveled by the heart and soul.
To the place where the passion of the world is celebrated
Where fears are not foes, but friends
In ferocious battles to the end
Where hate is a sickness
Where love holds no bounds

Where a friend of a friend is always a friend
Where the foe of a friend could never exist
Because those with the poison are put on the list

It is a wind,
They say,
That blows like ice
Chilling and killing those with the poison
They do not mention their lacerations
In the chest thrice

Or the hooded black figure with the knife in his hand
With the blood on his hand
With your life in his commands

With you death he demands

They say it is a wind like no other wind
A wind that so woefully
Brings the bitter end