The Wind Can Chase Itself

I know I said that ES would be for my poetry, but I wanted this one to be everywhere because it is one of my first poems that was intentionally 3rd person symbolic/parable style. (Even though it still has some first person.) Its called "The Wind Can Chase Itself"

I'll have yours if you'll have mine, darling. Think
about the wasted time we have shared.
Our cat out of the box,
It ran through all the locks with every key
looking for one combination.
All we needed was conversation
to find that there wasn't any key at all.
Yet all the same we consent to fall.

He ran his claws through my eyes
when I guess through simple disguise,
The prince became a blind beggar
wandering through the streets
looking for what he found so long ago.
All the mutes sang their song
While the lame- they danced along
to the beat of the skinless drum
and the flutes tuned by the deaf.

This unconscionable promenade
revealed the beauty of that song
long since felt in the hearts of many.
Travelers and nomads alike
began to gather dispite the racket
which was taken as allurement.

The prince too felt this song
and discovered what he already knew.
No blindness took his eyes
except for the lids he never opened.
He shouted loud with words unspoken
by voice but reclaimed by deed.

This seed of discombobulation ended
when my own eyes- they were mended
by the same hand that caused them to cease function.
This junction of life is so small
compared with the immenseness of eternity.
My dear, you were never even part of me.