//freedom
how we yearn for wings
whether that of a bird, or an angel
those aerodynamic structures
enabling us to reach the sky
(only) just to find
that even the sky has its limits
constraints
the faint cage -at which-
even the best bird cannot escape
the suffocation of its altitude
the freezing winds shivers into your bones
gravity pulling you down
back to earth
to where we are meant to be
to where we wish never to stay
at the edge of reasoning
we become flightless
our wings are found
produced from wax
melted from the sun
providing us this illusion
blinded by the facade
allowing us to aim high
and to fall so low
until we are destroyed
from our manifest of freedom
and our gifts of flight

signing off // feeling flightless // 24.09.06