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It’s like spreading your arms in hopes of flight –
Catching the wind and holding it just right…
Every subtle gust grasping your body like a sail,
Winning the battle against gravity without fail,
Fighting through the impossibilities, the improbable,
And entering the realm of weightless freedom - unstoppable…
Soaring above the clouds of an orange sky,
On passed the day and into the night we fly –
From here to the moon and beyond the stars,
Floating through the cosmos - leaving the world afar…
Gliding passed this adventure like an epic dream,
Not bound to conventional rationality, or so it may seem…
We find each other dancing amongst the clouds,
Circumnavigating the universe like gods, reckless and proud –
Revelations of astronomic proportions are manifested…
Escalating our feelings, as we now become more invested,
An Armageddon of emotion, epically destroying the world; vying,
For your love – for my Darling, your love? Well, it’s like flying.
Wrote this for Amber, she is my ray of light.
Will you become the wall and stay silent listening to my wails today?
I count every drop that wets your edifice brick by brick in this rain:
This day of prayer, the festival that comes only once in many years.
Today I stand kneeling before the skies that fumed in thunders
I have weathered life to walk up to this shore where you stand,
Your watery eyes the lighthouse that guided me lost in the sea-storm.
Polyphemus could not stop me, nor the Sirens, not even Calypso.
Here I come, your pilgrim in my hood, I who accepted war over love
The war in which I lost everything: friends, comrades and mates.
O Athene, have my sacrifices been in vain, will you not bring her to
speak? She who has gone silent like a wall, wet in this wailing rain.
I feel the caress of my own fingers
on my own neck as I place my collar
and think pityingly
of the kind women I have known.
My headphones are broken.
The music comes in muffled,
from only one ear.
It's soothing.
But it carries no weight.
No substance.
The words don't make sense.
I can barely make them out.
It sounds familiar,
and I'm nostalgic for the blurry memory,
In the back of my mind.
The full song watches and listens,
And matters so much more.
But my headphones are broken,
And it doesn't sound the same.
The alcohol is burning
a fire through my veins
that makes every love
you ever showed me
microscopic in comparison.
Minuscule and disproportionate.

— The End —