October 23, 2024

My wings are collecting dust on the shelves of my forgotten dreams. Once I snipped my dear wings, she is dying for the want of sky. After my bare feet felt the drying grass, my bubbling thought is rogue. I have watched the world, I have learned the ways, I have judged the surface, I have craved the attention, I have ignored the war, I have indulged, I have smiled, and I have, oh I have! Elves, who ran away with my dreams, come and return my wings to me. The fluffy cloud calls for me. The blue sky beckons me. The raging sun remembers me. The star misses me. The moon yearns for me.

Yours even as I fear to be.

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