I am Redwinged. This is what I call myself. Why Redwinged? It is me. It is who I am. Now matter how far or high I fly, my wings are tipped with red - the colour of pain, of sorrow. It is inescapable. But that does not mean that all is lost, that I cannot trill a sweet melody to break through the silence, the monotony, and the insanity of each day. And when I spread my wings and expose the crimson, I expose my suffering to the world. And in baring myself, I heal. And with song, I heal. This is why I am Redwinged.
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