Listening to The Wind

It pains me to know My vivacity isn't burnished well Under the bushes of my long-lost fantasies. I found myself pondering on a stone That perished from under my foot, it seems. Oh, where has my life wondered to? Where was my passion? Death under the silver moon Coaxed me to realize what Destroyed the wind's cornering Strikes. I resented the sun and its Shine on my sensitive integument And tore away the pleasures That brushed through my cogent senses. Everything bit the dust when I set afoot, On this desolate island. And maybe, perhaps, it'll stay that way, For eternity and forever more, Death now a key away from paradise.