Wings in the Dark

A pounding ache that will not fade —
I try to wipe it clean away,
But I’ve forgotten how hearts are made,
And so this pain is here to stay.

I’m not yet dead, but barely living,
For life this cannot be defined.
Inside I howl, my spirit grieving,
Yet want to scream with all my mind.

It feels as if I’m born to fly
When standing on the cliff’s cold line.
I want to shout into the sky
And drown the winds with voice of mine.

I stared into the ashen void —
And now it stares right back at me.
It spreads its darkness, sharp, deployed,
To break my core, erase my plea.

It feels as if I’m born to fly
When I close eyes above the fall.
I do not quit, though strength runs dry —
Illusions rule, and still I crawl.

I do not want to fight this world,
Nor be a cog within its frame.
Everything here feels strange, absurd —
So I step out of this cruel game.

But I don’t step into the night —
I spread my wings and rise anew.
I see the system stripped of light,
Untouched by it — I read its truth.