A feather adrift upon the air
Black bird aloft, awing, no care
Falling, falling here nor there
To my tips, my fingers bare
Clutching, clutching my fingers snare
Grey as cloud and soft as shadow
My soul it lay in field a-fallow
A feather, a feather upon my gallow
Set to perch on life so shallow
Drifting, drifting my life to harrow.
To my eyes a form so free
None to which I’m bound to be
Compelling, compelling her wings spread free
To my heart, my blasted me
Aching, aching to burst and bleed.
Wronged at love by youthful choice
A broken wing, a longing voice
Calling, calling, calling…
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