Do all birds fly so suddenly so?
Has the prowess of my wingspan
imposed too much?
For that is an escaped motive
and is only what I am.

I seldom call
Yet when I do
I sing
with intent to soar
until my pitch conducts the winds
Bestowing me the cream
of all flocks.

And yet these skies
though far from vacant
are populated more by clouds
than by those who would requite me.

Too many feathers
broken and chipped
While my
presumably unbeknownst competitors
assume roles beyond me.

And here I reside
Biding for that right hour
of that right season.

Where the whole that was
has finally
fragmented,
descending in an open, unremarkable blaze.  

And so pieces of me shall collide
with the ground,
implanting fractures
few shall discern.  

And the winds of days
and nights will continue to
persuade the dirt unto me
so my morose roots will not grow,
infesting a world undeserving
of my inadvertent pollution.

Here's the grand illusion...

I was the evasive shadow

But we have only just begun.

Tell me, isn't that strange?

Every day feeds this moral decay
In the strange game of life.
Now we can feel the winter.

Solitude's upon my skin
Waiting for the rain you're bringing.

Communication's broken, phantoms are far away.
Now the leaves are turning red
In a time of hope and desperation.

So I wither
Out the dark into the fire below.

Sleep is for the resilient
those who relish what they experience
and experience in the light
which dwindles and simmers
with the day.

Sleep is for those
who speak subconsciously
consuming the world
behind wearisome eyes.

Sleeps comes
as the escape
and recovery
while the world
impacts those who remain
awake.

Sleep is the fruit
of every harvest between days and nights,
so the encumbered may survive and thrive.

Sleep breeds the seed
sprouting essences of our minds
dormantly realizing.
actively collecting.

Sleep is the escape
that seizes time and surroundings
so let the end stretch
so I will never awake.