Black box

Reaching for you as earth says its goodbye.
What is this thing that takes flight.
Soaring through uncharted and terror drenched clouds.
As I look for monsters out the window.
If this plane were to fall from the sky.
Tear into the ground, this thing wrapped in meaning.
Would it leave a hole in my heart? Would it turn me to dust?
A fallen bird needing to fly, this thing called love.

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