Feeding on Time

To the winds laughing at my grief,
Turning every sigh to be a sign,
A sign that good days are now memories,
A part of me that would only kiss my forehead
And never touch my skin, my body.
For all I have seen is now a sin,
A sin I can’t resist its urge.
I am dumbfounded,
How can this emptiness be this strong?
Strong enough to break me apart,
To cause me to abandon all that I’ve planned,
Becoming a storm echoing, and I am not even bothered.
If only I was told earlier,
If only that sign spoke to me directly,
Asking for my route, I wouldn’t hesitate.
I wouldn’t grant death the chance to breathe.
Why would he take away my bliss?
My heart, leaving my chest empty, like an incomplete building,
Not even blood flowing; I’m just a walking corpse.
Seeking ease and direction, I can’t cause,
But adjust and absorb.
So, to the winds laughing at my grief,
Turning every sigh to be a sign,
Feed me, feed me what time has for me,
And I promise to bow to it.