The Fall Of Leave

“pain has a way of clipping our wings and keeping us from being able to fly, and if left unresolved you can almost forget that you were ever created to fly in the first place.” Wm. Paul Young, The Shack

ourholyprincesszelda

Stepping over the edge, I fall gentle but fast
Everything a blur, except the ride now past

I struggle on clipped wings of desire

Feathers floating in a pinion fire

Calls they echo, off cliffs of saddened

Still I fall, my wings abandoned

A dream condemned only in aviary free
Wounded wings of fate in the fall of leave
01252012

 Also published in Broowaha

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