The sun raises,
clouds obscuring the way-
trapped as I am
within this prison,
would only be a dream
these wings would carry me away.
stripped of all
barred of my rank;
beholden to none,
save the Lord to whom I give.
Protected by naught,
beyond this minimal gift;
and yet I yearn to fly again,
soaring upon the breeze.
Wings as small as a child's
and heart too heavy to bear-
this prison is my home now,
your whispering voice all I hear.
Author notes
Picture prompt number five. I hope it's well liked n.n
What do you see?
Comments
-
poem full of hope and also acceptance
-
Superb, and it definitely fits with the picture. Well done
Adding your comment:
