Fly fly fly,
Was all I gleaned with these wings.
Ah, invincible wings.
Ride along the winds,
Bend gravity to your will.
With the sun behind you,
The canvas of sky to fill.
Fill, fill, fill
Was what I wanted to do - my soul.
The precarious freedom of flight,
Giddy with pleasure, I was almost high.
And once you fly,
Do you look back?
Or do you gaze,
at the next highest flight you can take?
Take, take, take,
Ride the power of the winds,
Absorb the warmth of the sun,
Leaving cold shadows on the earth,
That couldn't give me a home.
Home.
Something I never had,
I could never be grounded.
So caught up in the wind,
The span of my wings,
The length of my shadows,
That I forgot to look out for myself.
Myself.
The sole focus of my existence,
And by extension,
at the periphery of my reality.
Reality struck.
You swooped in for the kill.
I had missed your conspicuous presence,
For I'd put the past behind me.
But there it was, riding between the sun and me.
Devoid of any form,
Not cold or warm,
Hidden within the shadow of my wings.
Wings, winged;
Unhinged.
And the fall was steep.
The wind joined forces with gravity,
sharpening the force of descent,
The length of the shadow diminished with the Sun's warmth,
And the earth, that was never my home,
Became my dirty, red, grave.
