Fly my Kite

In the arbour of shaded life,

I sit and dream of flying a kite,

But the string is lost and lost is the heart,

Wind is blowing the seasons apart,

And so I sit and drink all lies,

That need not be told yet are enshrined,

In to the minds of all they are kept alive,

Wicked are the stories thereon foretold,

Hollow are the seas yet shallow are the shores,

Thorns growing to wreck each course,

And so I sit asunder with the book of souls,

Each word strikes and leaves a mark within,

Is it pain or does it release the misery within?

Falls those leafs as I begin to breathe,

What was one to another is so no more to be,

I stand lost as sun breaks my shade,

I walk away and watch those clouds,

So far away yet so heavy they fall,

I look below and I feel the burn,

Our crimes are entwined my friend so I believe,

I give a sigh and I look away,

Wait I do one more day to fly my kite.

 

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