The Wind Is But A Stranger

The wind is but a stranger, yet I feel I know her well.
She'll never know a shackle and she'll never know a cell.
Her spirit is rebellious; she's nothing, if not free
As we feel, though never see her, whispering through the trees.
Her nature lives deeply within you, rejecting all ties
To anything or anyone living beneath these skies
I've come to realize now that I know I am the same,
And so our love is fleeting, vanishing just as it came.