The Flight of the Damned

We thought we knew right; I doubted it though.

I was at the middle; in between the divide.

My soul stepped out to see it through.

We define our truths and less we care of the life beside.

I started to rebel with all the might I had.

I was deceived, made blind by wicked illusions.

I gave up the battle bowing to the blood fad.

Tormented and maligned, I had to make my confessions.  

Among the fallen, I was chained to the ground.

The subtle clues to the world above, made it hard to go on.

Became so weak to listen to a sound.

I could have crossed many miles yet I waited for them to pinion.

Like shattered glass, my life fell apart.

Every piece that fell, began to reflect the suffering.

Was a casualty of war, within their rampart.

I closed them eyes; listened to the inside bellowing.

I break off with wounds so deep.

I shed those wings to have new ones.

I pick up the pieces, with lots to weep.

I wonder where to begin and I fly so high to the world I own.