Walking the halls 

was walking in circles.

She seemed to be consistently planning 

Scribing the 

walls with codes,

 with signs,

 with messages.

The bear skin coat whooshed and swayed 

as she eddied about.

"Miles deep and endlessly wide, you are my constant, my confide"

  

Speaking to no one, but with the wind. 

A wind that had been both kind and cruel,

The wind had be the culprit who had blown the storm and 

Hampered the speed 

of her carriage as she had sped 

to her fathers side the night he had passed. 

She had not been present 

to hear her fathers last words 

no one had heard them they had been lost to the wind 

and this troubled her deeply. 

On the day of the funeral 

a warm breeze flew through 

the cemetery 

and it caught her attention.