Wind rushes past my ears,

a violent wind wooshes past my ears.

It swoops through tree branches

snatching the leaves from their stems.

The wind roughly caresses my face,

chilling my bones.

With the wind in my face,

I'm pushed back, barely able to

move, wrapped in the wind's cold chains.

With the wind at my back, the chains

break, and a steady hand pushes

me onward.

Hindering help, definite dualism.