A breeze floating down from placid heavens
A tropical frostbite enveloping
Sheets of rain falling like marble heathens
Upon the cold polar wind opening
Hurt and dispositions southward running
Clamored abrasion in or ev’ry place
Struggling to hear silent cries of mourning
Alas, this region mourn comes not to face
Names written in the sand hold little chase
For whom the wind just as quick clears
As the tide pulsating in heartbeat pace
Nothing becomes eternal without fear
For like the wind does man go unprepared
Alas, the wind has always better fared