Movement, a stretch, a sway, a bend.

Wanting,  to move but the limbs are depend

Previous scars from winds gone by,

make the heart want to cry.

Reaching to the sky the limbs rise high

But to the depths they soon die.

The wind swirls and flies.

Its freedom no one can deny.

Its freedom, the limbs try,

Through the limbs the wind does blow.

Cutting to the depth and makes scares not so old.

It comes as a affront to what was there.

An affront one can not bear.

Movement, stretch, sway and bend.

But today there is an end.


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