winds

The winds of the western sun call to me,
a sudden jingle in my ear,
a tiny tingle apon my breast,
a slow rush over my mind,
a cold chill down my back,
a tiny bubble under my skin,
a buring glare in my eye,
a bitter taste on my tounge
a crisp stench inside my nose
The winds call to me,
My time of final choice has come,
Do I return to the past that has forsaken me,
or leave it all behind,
and risk losing myself as well.