he whispers to the wind.
the wind carries his words softly away,
he follows.
his mind is so far away,
he can't hear you, when you call his name.
his heart is so trapped,
its lost its way, shrouded by thickets of thistles.
he can tell you how he feels,
but he can't show you where he is.
his suffocating spirit, the dimming light in his eyes.
you pause for that moment,
you feel sorry.
these mad men in the city,
do they meet somewhere?
