Tears of futility

Rested, like carat gold.
On a relief that sits inside our hearts.
Heavy, and stuck inside such circumstance.
Were you grounded, or too afraid to fly?
Salt may corrode this weathered mind.
And tears flow on runways down my cheeks.
In the face of such disappointment.
Locked once more in the hanger of thoughts.
And memories of loss and stained souls.
Yet the stars beckon and entice.
Calling you higher.
A calling that whispers in your veins.
So easy to take off, but harder to fly.
Impossible, when you’ve let the world clip your wings.
For the illusion of maximum highs.

Advertisements