Dreams Of A Flightless Bird

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A wisp of scented breeze
Over gently stirring fields
If time is here at all
Then it must be standing still
My heart escapes my chest
A balloon without a string
The body that it left
All the evidence it came

I want to drift away
Where the mountains meet the sky
Ascending on the storm
Like a bird

I want to disappear
Without waving a goodbye
The sun to keep me warm
On my way

A wisp of scented breeze
Is my harbinger of grace
If pain was ever real
Then it must have been erased
My dreams escape my head
Like a flock of winter geese
These endless numbered days
Are the path to my release

I want to drift away
Where the ocean hugs the shore
The tide beneath my wings
Like a bird

I want to disappear
Like the early morning dew
Alive again and new
On my way

They Wait

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From whence these apparitions came
I cannot say; I dare not think
Alight upon my window frame
In form, as birds, yet not the same

With talons curved and plumage preened
Observers, they appear to be
Such beady eyes may scarcely tell
but I will not be fooled so well

“I know your kind, oh wicked beast
In patience perched upon my sill
Expecting here to find some feast
But I am fine, and hardly ill

Away from here; away! Away!
No feasting will be done today
Remove and leave no trace behind
For nothing here is dead nor dying”

Yet, still this blackened gathering
Has marred my views and jarred my plans
As nightmares, somehow given wings
And so I sat for their demands

I spake into the lot of them
“What evil plot or tainted wind
Has brought you here to mock my rest?
If you have tongues, at least confess”

At length no answer they prescribed
And did but stare with ebon eyes
Yet, not at mine–below perhaps
Into my core and through my depths

A sudden jolt–a thought–a start
Impaled my wonderings with fear
These foul ghosts await my heart
The weakened beat of which they hear

From far below, the suffering
Of this, my spirit’s offering
A broken heart and bleeding love
Has called them out and up above

A netherworld I dare not name
Cacophonous, unholy lands
Had heard the deepness of my pain
And traveled here to see my end

But not my body do they crave
No flesh nor blood they hope to have
They hunger for my sanity
And this poor heart that beats in me

The brokenness within my chest
These demons seek to drink its blood
Of what I’ve bled, to take the rest
And wrest me of my dying love

So long upon my window’s base
With empty eyes and solemn face
They wait, despair for me to take
They wait to see if I will wake

And maybe they are justified
The scent of wounded heart to seek
Although my frame retains its pride
The warmth inside is far too weak

As I recline against the bed
They stand there on my window ledge
Unspeaking, but I feel their gaze
They wait to see if I will wake