Half-winged


angels-with-just-one-wing

Each one of us, broken, half-winged.
Covered in dust, woe by Fate stringed.
Trapped forever is our entire kin,
shadowed by what could have been.

Pray, do tell us which is worse:
Not knowing until the day we die,
and by foot through life traverse…
Or to be winged but unable to fly?

This is our eternal attempt in vain:
To fly alone, no matter by how much pain.
The thought of flying, this fleeting hope.
The lingering maybes, how can we cope?

We were once complete, on clouds we’d float,
“We are strong alone,” hence we’d gloat.
And till this day our mind is set strong,
that we are each a half, a thought so wrong.

Oh, why can’t we just fly together?
What if we just try and fly together?
The ego, the pride we’d choose rather
the bravery to ask, we couldn’t gather.
What if we just try and fly together?

‘Cause we’re all now broken, half-winged.
Covered in dust, woe by Fate stringed.
If your wing and mine we both tether,
won’t we be able to soar above all weather?

To my friend Sky Nakayama (ominousky)
Who was gracious enough to let me co-author
and close our book Phantasmagoria (2012) with this poem of mine.

******

Image taken from unknown source

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