This poem was directed to my future self when I was 20 years old. I don't think I've told anyone about this intent.
May 12, 2014.
Fly, little wing
Into the swirling gust of hope
High above the pouring sky
Far beyond the rainbow's end
Where souls hear the faintest cry
Fly, little wing
With the pride of a wallflower
Blooming amongst the busy street
Unafraid of the cold oblivion
For their lives chant a toneless beat
Fly, little wing
Ride the waves of abiding faith
Across the old slumbering shore
With voiceless emotions of the setting sun
Till the heart finds a familiar cure
Fly, little wing
Share the calm spell of your mystery
And sweet dews of the early night
Ushering shadows of gentle moonbeams
And astral dreams towards the starry light.
Fly, little wing
The unhurried mind in aphotic plains
The sole guardian of solitude's heat
The old embracer of the icy gale
The lost wanderer whom I would greet
Fly, little wing
Catch the glimpse of the morning star
Shining down on your glistening road
To a place of uncharted trails
Where stories turn into an arcane code
Fly, little wing
O' dull feathers of the azure sky
And fellow miner for the heart of gold
Hum softly of your mortal price
For what's buried will be timely told
Fly, little wing
Breathe the cool air of credence
And sing your own saccharine song
For who are they, to rightfully say
What is different, and what is wrong?
Fly, little wing
Stand proud by the fallen twigs
And see the past through autumn's hues
The silent splendour of waning years
Amid the essence of vermilion views
Fly, little wing
Into the endless horizon
Painting portraits, of your final crime
Gliding past, collapsing stars
Ever dodging the hands of time
Fly on, little wing.
Allure us with your distant smile.
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