.

The air around me,
Sometimes calm and warm.

Sometimes it is breezy
Sometimes there are storms.

I move my wings,
In monotonous 4:4 time.

But the heaven and the earth,
Both weep at my crime.

Its a crime to myself,
And also creation.

Contributing my flight,
To the world of damnation.

Caught up in the calm,
I can't fly in the storm.

Losing my fire in the breeze,
Dissolving my definition of one.

Got to tune my wings,
To the harmony of reason.

Stop being a sheep,
And emancipate my freedom.

Obliterate the march,
Submit to the one true Law.

Embrace my new domain,
Where Eagles soar.

© Jibrael

This entry was posted on Friday, February 11, 2005 at 2:37 PM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.