Lonesome Wind

Gusting winds rush inside,
breaking the silence here.
The hanging sign squeaks and moans,
waking up those who are near.
Chilling my skin, I shiver,
the cold touch embraces me.
I feel the warmth escaping,
it is my cold breath that I see.

Oh blowing windstorm,
you are behind it all.
It is your scream that I hear,
that makes its lonesome call.
I turn over as I lay here,
with the covers over my head.
You can shout all you want outside,
I will sleep here in my resting bed.