Silver Wings
My life
Has always been anything
But like a bird
With metal weights and a burden so heavy
You'd think the sky was my folly
Of which I carry on my back
Behind a mask
Not the landscape a painter would paint to appease the senses
Free the mind
To remind us that yes, blue comes in more shades than sadness.
Madness, I know
To wish for wings that'll lift me from the ground
I watched as they
Stuffed it all in a mad hatter's hat
Though I did make sure to catch it
The collection
Of misplaced
Well-wishes
And ill-intended blessings
Not going to waste
Just yet.
In goes the river of my life:
A broken compass
Half-eaten lies
Shards of a mirror and
Holy water
Mix it, once, twice
Counterclockwise to reverse time
Wait til it turns silver
Like moonlight, a true reflection of my inner self
Though I do yearn for novelty, something other
Than the dull cacophony of slamming doors
And deaf words
To season, to garnish, to add to the design:
The heat of the sun
A flip of a coin
And the glimpse of a land faraway.
And soon, it is done
My desire, hidden in an unassuming form
Into an iron mold, I pour
The pieces of myself, and out of that, I forge
Metal feathers
Light
As the absence of guilt
Heavy
As the
Resolve I built
For this moment
When the ground, for the last time, kisses my feet goodbye
I can smile and know
That now, the sky is my own.
A writing assignment based on the three witches' spell from Macbeth.
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