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Part three of a set |
Wings [Seraphim Part III] Concealed 'neath a feathered shroud Enveloped in the wings A boa fletched, and crafted proud Stored with unlikely things With objects viewed impossible, so difficult to grasp An image left improbable, burnt fleeting, free and fast On retinas, red hot, the brand The moment she was there An instance forged, a lifetime planned In memories laid bare Coddled with the company, and pampered with the sun Such webs cobbed random, sights to see So wary how they're spun Too afraid of paper cuts To sample, shave an edge Accustomed to such grooves and ruts To which we blindly pledge So solemn in the aftermath, to fears that we swear Control of self's a selfish path, to those who give their share To those who dare to open up, to live a life, led fast Who spread their wings and share their cup … regrets left in their past As talons clenched, can't grasp such prey, as tenuous as sand and wings can't fly with things that weigh more than an open hand With open minds and open hearts Pangs rarely find a home Inaction sets such souls apart … in actions we atone In flight, through nights on blazing wings Reluctant through the days Holding back the sorts of things that should be on display Like tail feathers fanned out wide For people, key, that count With fires burning, stood outside In increments... amounts Circles left beyond our grasp Like lines drawn rough in sand Stranded, locked behind a clasp … imaginary bands With trinkets rich, we can't compare, we scrabble keeping score When something's sought so bad it scares … yet leaves you wanting more With bone white totems, scrying hard Bleached feathers, shrouding, white A soul set free and flying scarred Soaring through the night With feathers down and spirits free, and eyries way up high She weathers all, inspires me … she makes me want to fly Concealed 'neath this feathered shroud Enveloped in these wings with boas fletched and crafted proud ... stored with unlikely things |