By Martin Falatic
Written 2002-06-18
Revised 2002-06-18

Oh, how long since these wings were clipped
By mean cuts in the darkness before me
The light of day stabs and burns
While the moon and stars stay hidden from my heart
Old promises evaporate from memory
Yearnings true – buried deeply
A skeptical soul balanced between
What was and what may be
To fall to Earth from lofty hopes
Unless Earth as here is but an illusion
A soul trap built by consensus
To enslave the spirit on every plane
Connections broken, lives adrift
Sullen in their silence
Having forgotten what it is to fly
To see beyond a human’s eye