I wake to see The bastard children thriving The plight Your burden The scourge abiding No matter what consequences I have only knives for you I will be your storm The strike you never knew You little man No willful melancholy No matter how you plead This wind to right your folly Crushing worlds in front of you Gushing through the trial I am the wind I am the storm you'll always flee Find you there Where the sun smote Storm cleansing all away