Flying high, I believed.
Soaring above, I trusted.
The undercurrents were soft and warm,
Lifting me higher into this nest of hope.

On soft wings, you ascended me higher.
Your gentle confidence encompassed me.
I trusted, believed, let go. No longer hanging on,
My palms unclenched, I soared through the air, safe...
...or so I thought.

Blown by a cold gust from the North
My flight became shaky.
Having let go, I had no reserves.
I had no choice but to plummet.
It happened so suddenly, like a bolt of lightning
In a clear blue sky

And
down
I
fell.

As I hit the ground,
I felt my a cracking from inside me.
Something died in me just then.
A fracture that cannot be mended
A wound that cannot be sewn.

T'was neither my neck nor my arm
My heart was with you
And it cracked in two
As I fell from that warm embrace.

If only I hadn't thrown away my parachute of doubt.


Penned by my hand on the 18th of Daedalan, in the year 364 AF.