A rock cannot capture the wind.
It can be tall, strong, unyielding
It can know who it is and who it's meant to be
But no matter how it tries
A rock cannot capture the wind.

Rather, the wind wears the rock down
Hitting it with problems so tiny they go unnoticed
Until the rock cries out in agony
For the parts of its soul that it has now lost

Yet the wind still comes
Screaming through the cracks and crevices
Yelling to be heard
And the rock can only say back
"I hear your pain but
I cannot hold you nor can I help you!"
So the wind quiets down to a whisper
And the rock quiets down to a moan

Then the day comes and
The glass night shatters
The wind leaves without so much
As a whisper of a goodbye
And the rock is left to lick its wounds
And heal its scars
Until its next attempt
To capture the wind.