My wings of certainty
Have sold me out.
Bone jarring thud.
Fiery pain rushes
Through already aching bones,
Muscles, and flesh.
I look to the sky
Shouting, screaming,
Demanding answers,
Reasons why.
" What do you wish of the sky?" a voice called.
Darkness, there is comfort in darkness.
" What do you wish of the earth?"
Softness, there is peace in softness.
" What do you wish of the seas?"
Coldness, there is solitude in coldness.
" What do you wish of yourself?"
The ability to mend my wings
For there is freedom for the soul in flight.
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