The Wind Thief

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You are free
and shadowless
always,
rolling,
surging,
lingering
as you will.

The Preacher
was troubled
by your circles,
revolving
round
and around
from Darom
and about 
to Arphon.

The thief
tried to
steal
your power,
use it for
him
and his 
projects;
to turn
and spin
and do
his work.
You play along
for a while;
let him think
him master
and you
the slave,
until...
Enough!

Disabuse him
of your servitude.
Howl and moan,
creaking all things
til fever pitch
signals
destruction -
his pride,
his schemes.

Break
and break free
again
to blow
where you will.
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