The wind howled until sunrise, seeming to converse with him in a waltz of hope, despair, agony, and faith, and although he knew deep down he could never get her back, he liked thinking he could, part of the natural, albiet elusive self-deceptions all humans abide by to further their survival. But the thought only lasted so long before the hard truth of present realities crashed down at his feet near the poplar he'd been standing beside. He was beset by the ironies of his life, hoping that he wouldn't be so hopeless in the attributes of his character, of his soul, and of his mind.