meant to be sent

This, my life, a hollow end to nothing.
empty, my soul, air does not fill me up
At a loss, I cry out, words on the winds
seems they to carry my thoughts away
not where they were meant to be sent.

1. Breath slowly,
2. take air in,
3. let it out.
4. control your thoughts, emotions.
5. breath in again,
6. focus your thoughts, emotions,
7. breath out.
8. be at peace.

sailing on the wind, powerful feelings surround.
bright sunshine on my face, who cares of me?
A pen in air, writing your thoughts, only good
Beauties come from that pen on to the papers.
sky blue, grass green, palms, birds, butterflies.
turning there are dark clouds,death, judgment
there is a wind and the hateful evil stack whisks.
fire quickly consumes them and beauty returns
where are the good papers, they also are gone.
a voice on the winds calling to me to listen to it.

these stacks do not matter,if they had you would die.
mostly from all the grief, but that's besides the point.
what really matters is how you had responded to him
the one who controls that pen, paper, wind, and fire.
The one who may or may no be your best friend.