Fickle Winds of Fate
The fickle winds of fate,
blow of late, my dear, of late.
They are at the gate, my dear,
You may have heard them coming,
You may have dreamed their whispers,
But the winds do not obey our thoughts,
I would not tempt the evil ones,
For the fires along the watchtower,
Sighs winds make in the trees,
Fickle Wind Foretells Winter © BlueLotusNC.com
I like the eerie tone that I have created with this play of words.