As I move higher and higher,
Into a blanket of dark indigo,
Into a nest of icy clouds.
Im not worried if I will fall,
Not worried if I will wake to another day,
I put my trust in man and machine,
And it cradles me in the air, 3,000 ft. high.
A memory is lit.
And it burns as I asleep.
A memory where I am in the arms of someone,
Who makes me feel like I can fly.
And nothing can ever make me fall again.

No comments:
Post a Comment