The sea strains for the sand,
pulling, grasping at
each precious granule,
Their lovers embrace
shattered
with the rise and fall of the tide.
But I am not the sea.
The sky is not my sand.
"Reach for the stars"
They say.
How?
When I am bound.
Chained to the rocks
Shackles made of iron
Caressing my feet
I reach for my sky
My haven, my light
But I cannot
For my wings are far too
Small, To carry my weight.
And I fall
And fall
And fall
Until I am grounded.
A fallen angel
Yet again.
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 3:00 AM UTC
The sea strains for the sand,
pulling, grasping at
each precious granule,
Their lovers embrace
shattered
with the rise and fall of the tide.
But I am not the sea.
The sky is not my sand.
"Reach for the stars"
They say.
How?
When I am bound.
Chained to the rocks
Shackles made of iron
Caressing my feet
I reach for my sky
My haven, my light
But I cannot
For my wings are far too
Small, To carry my weight.
And I fall
And fall
And fall
Until I am grounded.
A fallen angel
Yet again.
