ephemeral freedom

Notes: I wrote this a while ago. Still super proud of it. The formatting was difficult, though.

Perhaps none will sing of me,

For none have lent me their voice,

So here I sing for myself,

Utterly of my lone choice—

I was given my feathered wings in the

Deep recesses of the earth:

My bars more friends than any human

  My chains no more than bracelets

And so I beat my wings, and found the sky between branches,

                      the sky between bars,

    Its majestic beauty,

  Its loveliness,

Waiting up for I alone,

And in that moment,

           I

             was

               home—

I looked upward, and breathed

The sunlight in.

The clouds were but glimpses of sugary sureness,

And so I had supped the sweet nectar

    found up        beyond the

      golden        darkened

        glorious        trees,

And saw the sea so waxed of

  That I could bear not to go

    Without its ephemeral touch.

But all (freedom, genius) has a price—

And sea crashed mercilessly,

Smelling of brine, as it tore,

Wind whipping my voice away,

As I lost it all once more.

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