I am the night wind that caresses the hills,
I am the moonlight that lights your path,
Even the waves that the wind's blowing wills,
Don't seem as simple,
As I thought they would be,
It's all a complicated pattern,
That grips my soul,
Like a bird grips its prey,
And flying so high,
That it looses all sense of the moment,
When my feet left the ground,
So free but still caught,
In the vines of desperation.

By: Charity C. Cowgill, Justin L. Joy, and Jamie L. Binnington