Road long and winding. Wind whispering wails of woe. Scents and images from a past I tried so hard to forget. An orchestra of incessant sadness. So many mountains ahead of me to climb. A graying sky is crying all the tears that we have refused to release. Nothing is forgotten in this land of dreams. Someone's hand is pressed hard against my chest. Where my heart is. If he were here, everything would be okay. But the wind and water, the storm has carried him away, leaving me in this world where the air is an orchestra of incessant sadness