The wings I can grant you
May be brightly colored and smooth,
Or wickedly dark and feared.
The choice cannot be chosen.
Narrow path splits
To road cracks
Into desert.
Journey remains the same
Regardless of how one flies
Up, down and naturally around,
The end will come in time.
Just another junkie in search
Lost: Peace of mind.
Text cannot teach,
Your wiser not to know.
Open the gates locked deep inside,
Demons unleashed
They'll never let go.
It may only need one,
Quite possibly
A hundred.
Return your thoughts
Or just go.
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