Oh, gentle winds beneath moonlit skies,
Do not you hear my heartfelt cries?

Below the branches, here about,
Do not you sense my fear and doubt?
Side glistening rivers, sparkling streams,
Do not you hear my woeful screams?

Upon the meadows, touched with dew,
Do not you see my hearts a'skew?
Beneath the thousand twinkling stars,
Do not you feel my jagged scars?

Seek not my mournful heart kind breeze,
For you'll not find it amongst these trees.

It's scattered across the moonlit skies,
Accompanied by heartfelt sighs.
It's drifting over the gentle rain,
A symbol of my silent pain.

It's buried beneath the meadow fair,
Conjoined with all the sorrow there.
It's lost among the stars this night,
Too far to ease my quiet fright.

No gentle winds, seek not my heart,
For simply ... it has torn apart.


by Troy Sacks

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