Weary the soul who for love searches Along the highways of the night. Pity the bird that strays and perches Among the crags devoid of light. Each night they wait for tranquil moments Beneath the stars who watch and know And when the winds relent and scatter I know not where it is they go. But always the winds renew their torments Upon the living and the dead; Howling, they rage, they claw and plunder Lost souls and fled...