Struck by a fucking lightning bolt:
Hope, bliss, flight, fear, loss. Pain.
All the idle bits of my soul,
Seared away.
Left behind, a mass of pristine
Longing. Hunger.
I stare upward to the thunderclouds,
Reverent wings spread broad, and
Pray for mercy; to be set alight
Once more.
Don't cry for me; this is my
Rapture.
Don't sing for me; this is my
Doom.
One way or the other,
I will starve no longer.