Distant despair and close defeat. States of eternal damnation, memories of pain and sway from control. Life leaves difficult choices in my wake. Even when hurt, even when broken, I soar the sky with wings drenched in blood. The air forces me down and there is no rest in sight. I’m destined to be the rancid meal of this abyss.
The fear creaps in what if, and the eyes shot blood red as tears descend and fill the oceans with my agony. I have searched a thousand miles. My flight impossible and I have searched more. The screams from my bones and the pain from my heart pulls me under, yet I hope for one more chance, a second more. The flight is unattainable if I fall, I tell myself to bear a bit longer. I have remained parched even with oceans around me and the whimsical fate that rains acid on me as I yearn for a sip of compassion. I have yearned for a nest, a nestling and a mate. My hope has withered and I am near defeat.
Swaying between years of hope, pain of experiences and learnt lessons I struggle to hold myself. I have learnt the world is an endless ocean, cold, powerful and yet I have seen the power of water. It gives life to those it claims, its gentle and kind. With fear of never belonging and recognition of my solitude I continue. When will my wings feel the salve of your healing?
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