sorta goodbye

Yes, i am the wind,
flying past one desert to another.
and you are the Bedouin, burnt dry,
yet too proud to wash yourself with me

I would have been the one carrying the rain,
water that would quell your long drought.
But never given that chance,
I am spent.

I will run past dunes and sandstorms, again,
when i would've wanted to stay a bit longer.
Still, I am content at that one shot
of having been able to cool your parched soul.

I have lingered enough in your oasis
and so with flight i will find closure.
And though the relief i could’ve given is rare,
those days are gone.


***

its funny how you spurred me to draw near although the nearest i could get was still too far to see your face yet close enough to see your chains. i would've unchained you if you wanted me to but you didn't. i guess i'll never be the boy who'll set you free. now, i'm so far from home but i haven't gone anywhere.

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this post is long overdue. i am happy (?)