Voices In The Wind

There is always a voice in the winds 
Blowing west to the south, east to the north 

There is always a whisper in the winds 
Echoing, distorted cacophony of chat 

There is always a ghost in the shadows 
Taking forms of the shapes to form 

There is always a scare a sense 
Of a presence, eerily and haunting 

There, yet when I look it stays empty 
There, thoughts and wander prolonged 

There and dreams are just the same 
Mystery that surround this world