Silhouetted against the dark landscape of what I once knew
lies a baby
in a basket
with a crow
I wait
and wait
for the crow to fly
up, up and away from childish cries
but they are shadows;
a disloyal memory of my loving upbringing.
***
Rooted with fear,
I reach for the sky.
My heart wants to stay,
but my soul wants to fly.
Just one more big stretch,
the stars, they are nigh!
But it's too late, I know,
for soon,
I will die.