What were westerly winds whining?

Ten thousand thoughts through this

See, say something sorrowful, sad

And another articulate alliteration arises
My most makeable memories may mourn

So, what are the thoughts? Sorrowful? Sad?
Another articulation of mine might mourn bold brightness of being

~~

sssssssssss

The sun senses surprises sung somewhere south

Right as rain, rather reconstructed ramblings

Knowing it kills kids kind of kinetically, coarsely
Being badly biased and backed by both bodies

And after another appealing agony arises
Rather rambling kids, kind of being bad
You young youth yawn yeses to the sun