Certain winds twist us broke, 
in disagreement, fact’s a joke, 
even when we’re hardly hailed, 
we stand still and get nailed,
how can we stand being jailed
by words that carry no weight?

If we let it corrode our sails,
we’re trapped in a fixed fight
that strap us into angry tights.

If a leg doesn’t agree, another 
doesn’t believe, we won’t wander
into the respite raining wonder.

How hard does it have to hail
before we realize we’re nailed
into a wallpaper with no mind? 

Gale wind, come to me and find 
me desperate to lift the sails
that reach the respite I might
always wanted but never knew
existed before this grim tale
of igneous wants began to sell. 
Signature Lina Ru