There was a small town of grass and glow.
The cottages of mud and stone.
The songs in the air seeming to last forever long,
The people are all within a trance of oh uncomfortable comfort.
In this town oh there lived a girl born of the wind.
She flowed so differently than all of them.
She came and she went telling no one for it was forbidden.
Forbidden to leave the town of song and dance.
The songs were a trance.
They truly ended in the night of murder.
The girl of the wind spoke so softly to the songs.
“Oh why do my lovely songs have to murder all that thy love?”
The songs now wept of sorrow for the wind girl.
She whisked herself away again.
She made a new song, one more lovely than the last.
She bottled it up in a glass hoping to fix things from her past.
Back in the town she stood again, and she let out the trapped song.
She called out to the song after letting it into the air,
“Oh my lovely song please don’t kill those who listen once again”
The old one moved back into her bottle filling it up with a darkness.
The day of new song was filled with light.
It was better than the last song filled with trance that she had made,
At least that was what she thought turning away again as the sun came to set.
She glided across the mountain screams filling the air from behind.
