The depravity of existence,
Fallen down, in one fell swoop.
Hopes and dreams like crushed glass,
Gripped within hands of the cutthroat.
Try as you might to overcome it all,
Fight rampant for the chance to soar.
Oh fly, oh,
Oh fly you will.
But the condition of life,
Is that you, my child,
Have wings
Of wax.
- C.c
I've actually wrote this poem to accompany a trio I composed for oboe, saxophone and electric bass. The composition shares the same name and has not been premiered.
