With dreams I found a way into my own heart,
with wings I flew upon kindness of others whom willingly fell and depart.
We flew slow with tears so oceans were made,
but clouds were swift to pave their way,
as the crescent moon hung still above the seas’ bay.
It was a rush of frustration,
a time of reconciliation,
life of mourning,
whilst more tore in.
“So to my goddesses and gods, I plead to give me hope,
life is not so bitter sweet… is it not?”
The time has come for the awakening of the hidden,
the removal of dread,
a time of change from the very bottom of the sea bed.
So I ask, in my own rage, “remember me well,
for I am human with wings that you can not quell!”