Whispering softly the wind calls upon me
saying to become wild and carefree
Slowly letting go I begin to twirl
the trees turn to blurry greens as I whirl
Falling to the ground, everything becomes slow
I stare at the sky, and watch the clouds flow
and I have finally let go
no more cares
no more wares
it is time for me to find my real self below
as I dig, and dig, I become weary
to think as my self as a blossoming fairy
so I let out a slight sigh
and believe I can get by
The sound of the wind and the flow of the clouds were a lullaby
that gently took me to a place were i would comply.