You could achieve your dream of
Soaring over the clouds if perhaps
You cut those chains around your
Ankles and left the Earth for what it is

Worldly; we fall for angels who end up
Being much more foul but in the end
We find they were angels anyway,
Unknowing

This mess of red string is around my wrists now
And I want to burn it to the ground but I
Know that honor is yours -
Free me please so I won't have to dwell on
Memories I don't understand