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 Forever Kept |
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| by Irie Wolfgang Aya |
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It starts as a soft breeze
a light wind blowing ever so gently
a little caress on my skin
the moon shines full in the heavens
its pale brightness covering this mortal plane
The white clouds begin to grow darker
a blanket slowly covers their light
as they draw closer together
blocking out the moon
sweeping darkness over the earth
The first drop falls from the skies
falling slowly like a tear
and like any tear, it is soon followed by others
rain pours forth and the cries of thunder come after it
streaks of lightning tear at the sky
The soft breeze turns cold
its gentle caress becoming a lashing pain
the wind howls throughout the world
the quiet night shattered by nature's cry
In the darkness of despair I search for the Canon
I wrap my fingers around the sacred tome
and I bring it to my lips
His genius shines bright even in this tempest
and while I am awash in Baker Street I know
I know that no wind will pull my mind from Holmes.
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