Down the Corridor

Down the corridor and Through the brush, I fall. A wind of dreams blows through my hair, My steady feet, Now thin air. Go Back. Go Back! If tornadoes could spin backwards and storms never came.. My heart, my heart could beat the same. As the innocent bliss, that of a child In the midst of it all, lost and wandering. wandering lost among the towers that dare to fall and crush me. Down the corridor and through the brush, my wounds heal and I walk into the garden that sets me free.