On a cold blue night of winter's day
I heard the song of a nightingale
Perched upon a tree, arcane and sweet
Entwined the wind and made it weep
Everyday from dusk to dawn
I could hear the song of amatory
The wind would bask in its glory
The two lovers fated together, not once did they squabble
Then came along another song
And the wind died away
The nightingale then fell in love, but now was prey
For what she did to the wind was wrong, she would soon realize her mistake
Off in the distance, a crescendo, a predator did break
An arrow pierced their heart
The nightingales, the songs, lay dead beneath the tree
At last, the wind, was finally free.