O you majestic Wind of rage!
How you batter against my recoiling hair…
In this game, you’re quick to engage,
But I will not partake in this affair.
I am of the earth,
Yet far passed all mortal fears.
That’s not to say I only live in mirth,
But oh, dear Wind, please note these tears!
You strike at me without noting my story.
I am the Whig, and you are its Tories.
Why must we be enemies today?
Won’t you put down your mask and end this fray?
You could be as gentle as a passive brook,
Yet you continue to act no less a crook.
I am a passenger aboard your train.
You are cousin John, and I am young Jane.
You’re quick to slight my humanity.
Oh Wind, you’re driving me to the edge of insanity!
Turn aside your merciless divinity,
I’ll one day pass while you’ll live on to infinity.
You’re tides of fiery surely do not go unseen.
Only senseless anger lies in our in-between.
My emotions are flaring,
And you go around me, uncaring.
I look at these trees,
And I can assure you, they can’t stand such a breeze.
This miserable delight,
Has already taken flight.
It’s growing and growing,
And constantly blowing.
Don’t be maddened by my words, dearest Wind.
I only mean to inspire a grin.
Although, my hair’s not so fast to forgive,
None of that matters since when I pass, you’ll undoubtedly outlive.
Your power is breathtaking.
Being trapped in this world… well, it must be forsaking.
Remember me dearly,
Because with time, you won’t envision me so clearly.